Mein Kleiner Bruderchen
by AceOfSpades22
Summary: After the end of World War Two, all the nations decide to split apart Prussia and Germany... meaning Ludwig and Gilbert are separated as well. When a tawny haired Italian grow tired of seeing Ludwig so sick at heart and hurting, he decideds to do something about it, though he'll need a few friends to help. Pairngs are GerIta, PruHun, Spuk and hints of RusCan and DenNor.
1. Chapter 1

**So. Don't own Hetalia. Just getting that out of the way. MKB IS complete. A total of 14 chapters, so no fears on being left at a PERMINANT cliffhanger, because that is so unawesome. I will only upload a chapter a week or so, so as not to scare people away. It is rated M for later scenes, just watch for disclaimers at the top to know when to expect it.**

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**First chapter: Not much to worry about in this chapter**

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Mein Kleiner Bruderchen

_ International News Report- German dictator and Nazi leader's, Adolf Hitler's, reign of terror and mass genocide has come to an end. The Austrian man was found dead in his bunker with his wife of a day, dead as well, early this morning by invading soviet troops. Police have not disclosed the way or cause of death, but they have suggested a double suicide instead of assassination. One thing is certain. Nazi Germany is no more. The nations of the world are meeting today to discuss the fate of this feared nation. _

"Is it agreed then?" Alfred asked, looking tired and angry. They had all been in the same meeting for five hours now. Everyone arguing to each other about what to do was not helping to speed up the process, and was giving the American a headache.

"I don't like the idea. Yes, Ludwig messed up in not fighting against Hitler's ways when he still had a chance to save his people, causing us all pain and trouble..." The quiet Japanese man flinched, pressing a hand lightly to a bandage around his ribs, a reflex in remembering Hiroshima, though that had been caused by the American, not necessarily Ludwig's fault. "However... I think it was more his dictator's doing. Well all know how hard it is to go against the will of our bosses... I think the wall is too great a punishment after all he's been through." The Japanese man said quietly, not wanting to see his ally separated by these people.

"Kiku. We could be asking for his entire nation, dissolve it, destroy him really. Is putting up the wall and separating him from Prussia really all th-" Alfred was cut off by a furious snarl from the albino man across from him.

"Like hell American. Like hell! You are not separating us! Not while he is hurting and sick like he is. Germany is in chaos, Ludwig is so weak from everything that happened..." Gilbert's crimson eyes clouded in grief for his brother. "You take me away from him, you'll kill him... He needs my help Alfred."

"He needs to learn how to pick up the pieces himself Gilbert. You won't always be there to protect him. If he dies from this, then it serves him right. Maybe then we all would remember not to try and take over the world." Arthur said, forever the voice of reason. In truth, he didn't necessarily blame Ludwig himself for the near destruction of Britain, but he didn't exactly like the German and felt the wall was a fair punishment.

"Why let him pick up the pieces?" With that statement, everyone stopped and stared, the room going dead silent. "He... He deserves t-to die." The almost silent, trembling voice of Feliciano whispered from the end of the table where the Italian sat, being protectively held by his brother. His eyes streamed with tears and he was almost as pale as Gilbert, though he had sun kissed tan skin. _He was my closest friend. I trusted him with my life... and then he pulls something like this and tells me to leave him. To leave and not come back... _He thought, feeling broken inside. Everyone watched the trembling Italian with shocked, but sympathetic eyes, save Gilbert, who looked worried and desperate.

"You know it wasn't his fault Feli. You know he didn't mean it like that!" Gilbert tried to reason, knowing exactly what Feliciano was thinking, having had the conversation with him before. His heart raced and his thoughts spun. If even this little Italian was condemning his brother he didn't stand a chance on convincing them to keep West Germany and Prussia, East Germany, what have you, together, meaning, inevitably they wouldn't get to see each other for a while, if not forever.

"Look guys. It is getting late, and even heroes need their sleep." Alfred said with a ghost of a smile, trying to lighten the mood with a half hearted joke. "Why don't we all go and get some rest... We can start the meeting up again in the morning." The American yawned and got up from the table, soon followed by everyone else, save Gilbert and Feliciano.

"You know, he didn't mean to hurt you Feli. I promise you that. He would never do anything to hurt you intentionally, especially not like this." Gilbert said quietly with a soft sigh, looking at Feliciano with sad, pleading eyes. "I know he doesn't always act like it, but he loves you Feli. Really... He does..."

"You w-weren't there Gilbert... You couldn't know how he feels... I _know_ what I saw and what I heard... I don't know that anything you say can convince me otherwise..." Feliciano said, eyes heart broken and full of grief. He wanted to believe Gilbert, but his heart wouldn't let him, keeping him away from potential heart break in case he turned out to be wrong. "Look... Gil I have to go... Fratello is worried enough about me as it is, I shouldn't worry him further by taking forever to get back..." The young, heart broken Italian whispered before walking to the door, tears streaming down his face. _What if Gilbert is telling the truth? What if he still does love me? _He thought with a sigh as he went out of the building and caught up with Lovino.

_International News Report- The nations of the world have decided that Germany needs to pay for all damage done to each country affected by the war. On top of this, a wall is to be constructed, separating East and West Germany. This wall is to be known as the Berlin wall, where the East Germans will fall under soviet control, and the West, will remain mostly unaffected. Berlin is also to be separated, to be sure this nation doesn't try to take over again. With the divisions, this dangerous nation will be controlled._

All the nations of the world watched as the once great Ludwig Beilschmidt walked weakly into the room. He looked as though he had aged a century since the beginning of the war, his normally slicked back blonde hair hung in his eyes, his purposeful, powerful stride reduced to a limping, wobbly shuffle, shoulders hunched forward and head hanging low. His blue eyes, once so beautiful and clear, were clouded over and faded, and his skin had an ashen cast to it. All around he looked sickly and weak, but that didn't stop the wave of disgust, anger, and even fear from rolling through the conference room. With all the defiance he could manage in his weakened, broken state, Ludwig lifted his head and glared at the nations assembled before him. Gilbert and Ivan were no where to be seen.

"Your crimes against humanity have forced us to drastic measures Ludwig. Prussia and Germany are to be separated permanently. Gilbert is going to go live with Ivan ." Alfred said, holding his head high. In the back of his mind something was telling him this wasn't the right thing to do, but he ignored it. _I will not feel bad about this. It is for the best_ He told himself. _We've all agreed to the wall... well, most of us... There is nothing wrong with what we are doing._

Gilbert threw himself against the door to the conference room, determination to get to his brother and protect him from these people driving him past rational thought. The door was locked, and running into it hadn't accomplished anything but bruising his shoulder. "Mein kleiner bruderchen... Es tut mir leid." He whispered, sounding desperate. With a single tear running down his cheek, he rested his head against the door, memories of him and his brother whispering at the corners of his mind.

_ "Luddy? L-Ludwig!? Bruderchen... Bruder bitte... speak to me... b-bitte..." Gilbert whispered, hugging the broken, bleeding form of his brother in his arms. "Francis!" He snarled furiously, silence falling across the entire battlefield. "I will ficken kill you, you arschloch! He was just a boy! Just a little, defenseless boy!" The Prussian cried, crimson eyes livid, burning with such an intense fury, the Frenchman flinched back, slowly beginning to back away. _

_ "Gilbert. You have to understand! He was more powerful than was healthy... We ha-"_

_ "Halt die ficken klappe! I don't want to here any of it! Get out of my sight before I kill you myself." Gilbert hissed, holding onto the nearly dead child in his arms tightly. He watched as Francis slowly backed away, and nodded in satisfaction as he started running back to his troops, all of them leaving hastily. "Bruder... I should have been there for you... I should have stopped him... Stupid Roderich... I had to fight him off before I could come to you. Es tut mir leid." He whispered, eyes bright with distress. The albino man had gotten there just in time to see Francis stab Ludwig in he stomach with his sword and knock him over the head with it's hilt, enough time to witness the damage, but stand helpless and watch it happen... Now the child in his arms was probably going to die... and the thought terrified him. _

_ He jumped slightly when he felt a small, icy hand on his cheek. Looking down, he met confused and terrified blue eyes for a brief second, before the hand fell away and Ludwig's blue eyes closed once more. _

Ludwig dropped his defiant gaze, and swayed slightly, looking like he was going to pass out. The information had taken a second to process, his brain fighting not to accept the truth. _Mein bruder... They are going to take mein bruder..._ He thought, a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach as he fell heavily to a knee. He felt like he couldn't breathe and the room started spinning. _They want my bruder!_ He wailed to himself silently, blue eyes sparking with distress and terror. He was so wrapped up in his grief, that he didn't notice the cry of distress that filled the room when he fell... But everyone else did.

Feliciano had, up until this point, been watching Ludwig with sad, clear eyes, finding it exceedingly difficult to remember he was angry with Ludwig for betraying him. He felt the tears he had been holding back slide down his face as he stood and hurriedly left from the room. He just couldn't bring himself to watch any longer. _Mio tedesco... I'm so sorry..._

All the nations in the room went silent as Feliciano left, many suddenly feeling guilty. This decision was not only hurting the German brothers, but it was hurting Feliciano as well. This couldn't be right! Could it? Unfortunately the decision to construct the wall had already been agreed upon; there was no going back now. All eyes turned to Ludwig once the door had closed. How had he been so wrapped up in his grief that he didn't realize the Italian had left?

_A wide eyed Ludwig ran down the hall to his brother's room, crying out in terror each time a clap of thunder sounded over head. He reached Gilbert's room and hesitated, hearing a lull in the storm. He shouldn't be so afraid of a little- The thought was never finished though, because the loudest clap of thunder yet sent him flying through his older brother's door and onto his bed, shaking like a leaf. _

_ Gilbert woke immediately, irritated at first, but then he realized what the problem was. "Mein Gott bruderchen. Thunder again?" He said sleepily, his words slurring together with his drowsiness. When Ludwig didn't stop trembling, he held out his arms to the young German nation with a sigh. _

_ Ludwig, of course, crawled over to him and laid down, snuggling right up against Gilbert's chest. "Danke bruder." Ludwig said with a yawn, his unruly hair tickling Gilbert's cheek. He already felt better, safe in the Prussian man's arms. If anyone could protect him from the frightening thunder, it was his brother. _

_ "Silly kleiner bruder. It is only a noise..." Gilbert reasoned, though his eyes were soft as another boom of thunder sent Ludwig into a new wave of trembles. "...But if it scares you that much, I'll be here." He promised with a kiss to the boy's temple. He pulled him close against his chest and rested his head back down against his pillow, only to reopen his eyes and look down at Ludwig when a small hand tapped his arm. "Ja?"_

_ "You... You promise you'll always be there?" Ludwig said softly, his voice a bit nervous and fearful. _

_ Gilbert smiled and kissed the boy's temple again. "Ja. Always. Ich liebe dich Luddy."_

The silence that had fallen over the nation's stretched on as Ludwig grieved. It seemed to take him forever to pull himself back together, leaving some of his closer allies with a frown. He never showed this kind of weakness.

Everyone flinched back when he finally stood back up, his eyes completely lifeless. "Let me see him to say goodbye..." He said in a sickened voice, meeting each nation's eyes in turn.

"That isn't allowed. You have already been sep-"

"You _will_ let me see him before you separate us! If you don't do it for me, at least do it for him. This isn't his punishment, it is mine. None of you realize just how badly this will hurt him. You will let me speak with him before that _verdammt_ wall goes up." Ludwig said firmly, his voice thick with the command and his eyes glittering with authority.A ghost of his former, respected self shone through in the way he straightened despite his injuries and his exhaustion, and in the way he defiantly held Alfred's gaze.

Despite it all, Alfred flinched back ever so slightly and reluctantly nodded after a moment. "Ten minutes Beilschmidt. You have ten minutes." He muttered, voice echoing the exhaustion that shown in everyone's face. His stride was stiff as he opened the conference room door. "Gilbert. You got ten minutes with your brother. Hurry up." Everything about the American was surprisingly apologetic. No one but Gilbert, and perhaps some of the older nations, would catch the way Alfred's eyes shown with sympathy, or the way he held the door and kept his face tilted towards the floor.

Gilbert clapped the young power house on the shoulder, a sign of wary gratitude, before rushing into the room and to his brother's side. "Bruderchen!" He cried out with a mix of relief and worry in his voice. He wrapped his arms around Ludwig tightly, sending fierce crimson glares at everyone in the room save Antonio and Kiku. "This is wrong. They shouldn't treat you like this. They have no right verdammt! They can't just decide what to do with your nation! They... They-"

Ludwig cut off Gilbert's ranting with a shake of his head. "You'll always be there for me, ja? Bruderlein?" He said softly, refusing to shed a tear in front of the others.

Gilbert's crimson eyes widened as they met Ludwig's glassy blue ones. He too looked ready to cry, but if anyone was more prideful than the blond haired German, it was his older brother. He would not give these cold hearted, unawesome bastards the satisfaction of seeing him cry. "Ja... Always kleiner bruderchen..." He responded, speaking no louder than a whisper to keep the tremble out of his voice. "You have to promise me you will do your best to stay strong mein bruder. Promise me."

Despite his resolve to not shed a tear, Gilbert's words sounded too close to the inevitable goodbye in their immediate future. Ludwig's blue eyes closely resembled those of the small child he had once been, frightened and desperately needing his brother's comfort. "Bruder... I can't pro-"

"_Nein!_ Promise me!" Gilbert demanded, his voice ringing with the authority of a Germanic nation. He was not about to let Ludwig give up. Even if he wasn't there he... He couldn't just let his little brother give up. Germany was weak enough as it was and just about every stronger nation in the conference room would take advantage of his weakness as soon as Gilbert wasn't there. He couldn't give up. "Promise. Me."

Ludwig sighed and hung his head. He'd do anything for Gilbert, even if it was promising to keep himself safe. "I will try my best bruder." Apparently that wasn't good enough. Gilbert's eyes glared furiously into Ludwig's.

"Nein. There is no 'try' bruder. You _will _stay strong. You will carry on... even without me." Gilbert commanded firmly, his voice leaving no room for question or compromise.

Ludwig would have responded, but Ivan had grabbed Gilbert and was forcing him toward the door. "Time is up, Gilly." He said with a child-like grin, his voice positively chilling. Of all the nations in the room, Ivan was the one who was the most unaffected by all the sorrow between the two German brothers. He actually had a gleam of excitement in his eyes that made Ludwig and Gilbert both shudder in unison.

It took a moment, but Gilbert fought against Ivan's hold, looking demonic in his anger and power as he realized this was the last time he'd see Ludwig in who knew how long. He had to talk to his brother for longer! Even a few more seconds would be better than leaving him now... _He isn't strong enough for this! They'll kill him! His economy is struggling and he hasn't even began paying the unrealistic charges against him to the others! Plus... without me or the Italian... He... He won't want to live. I know mein kleiner bruderchen. He can't take this! No nation is strong enough to live through this..._

Gilbert wasn't the only one who had begun to fight their separation. Ludwig lurched forward, digging deep inside of himself for what little buried strength he had inside. They were not taking his brother without a fight, even if he was weakened. His injuries hardly slowed his advance on the bulky Russian man who held his brother captive. His anger rolled off of him in tangible waves, stopping the other nations in their tracks as they were consumed with fear. The only nations who continued to move against him were Yao and Alfred.

"Did you think I'd just stand by and watch you all forcibly take away the only person I have left who cares for me? Did you think for a second that just because I may be weakened, just because I may be sick, that I am not strong enough to fight back? I _AM _Nazi Germany whether you trottels like it or not! I have made mistakes. I will be the first to admit that, but haven't we all? Is it really alright to punish one nation like this when things like blowing up a military base go unnoticed? Alfred did the exact same thing as I with his native people, enslaved the African colored people, and then held all the Asian people in camps. You don't see him being punished in the slightest. No one is forcing him from Matthew. Is it not enough that my people are already shattered and afraid? Is it not enough that you are not allowing my people to recover? No. Clearly not. You have to take mein bruder away and give him to that verdammt communist bastard! With our separation, you tear apart many families in mein country. You all want me to prove my worth as a nation again? You aren't giving me the chance!" Ludwig's voice rang all throughout the room, the commanding presence he held himself with was something the others hadn't seen since the beginning of the war.

Unfortunately, he was just too out numbered to do more than break Ivan's nose. What ever daze the other nations had been caught up in, when Ludwig's fist had collided with Ivan's face, and the Russian's blood had splashed against the ground, all of them but the Nordics, Antonio and Kiku had gotten up to restrain him. Ludwig thrashed against their holds, managing to cause many broken bones, though what and who they belonged to was a mystery. Despite his heroic, or maybe demonic, effort, Alfred smacked him in the head with the back of a gun, rendering the still powerful man unconscious.

_ "Ivan take the Prussian. Everyone else. Prepare to build the wall. Let's just get this over with so we can all move on with our lives." Alfred commanded, sounding exhausted. He would much rather just leave the troublesome German brothers alone, but his boss had other plans. He was the hero! But... Right now he felt very much like the villain. There was nothing he could do to fix this... After all, he had to keep Ivan happy, or else they'd be plunged into an all out war with the soviet union. It was all more complicated than what the American wanted it to be. Alfred's blue eyes watched Ivan and the struggling, German screeching Gilbert until they disappeared from sight down the hall. What have I just done to the German brothers?_

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**So I apologize for any feels kills... Reviews are appreciated though! :) **


	2. Chapter 2

_International News Report- A month ago today the Berlin wall's construction was completed. Since the construction, Germany has been struggling, staying just above the point of collapse. The sickly nation hasn't been heard from for over three days. In other news, Prussia, more commonly recognized now as East Germany, has been over run with Russian KGB officers. It appears as though they are stationed in this half of Germany for an extended amount of time. It has been recorded that Mr. Alfred of America is unconcerned about the two halves of Germany, saying 'the wall doesn't prevent them from surviving and rebuilding, their hearts do.' _

What the rest of the world didn't know, didn't hurt them. They didn't need to know just how bad off Feliciano was doing. They didn't need to know how badly Italy would be failing if Feliciano didn't have is obnoxious brother, Lovino, to basically take control of both North and South Italy. "If you miss the potato bastard so much, go see him! Idiota..." Lovino growled for at least the third time that day. For all the hostility and impatience in his words, his eyes glittered with concern. Comfort was _not_ his strong point... and he was terrified for his brother. The smaller Italian wouldn't sleep, wouldn't smile. He wouldn't even eat! It had Lovino worried sick.

Feliciano sat on the floor of is room, facing away from the door. The light was off and he had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Shudders rocked through his frail frame as he cried silently, the iron cross of Ludwig's clutched to his chest in white knuckled hands. "H-He sent m-me a-a-away fratello... I c-can't j-j-just g-go see h-him... I w-want to hate h-him fratello... b-but..."

Lovino sighed and sat down beside his brother and, with a shake of his head, he hugged the sobbing man. "Feliciano, you don't hate him. Many other people might, but you do not. Look at yourself! You're miserable... Italy is struggling because I am running the entire country instead of us doing it together. If you go visit him, you'll feel better... si?" Lovino asked, not particularly fond of the idea of Feliciano going to see the potato bastard Ludwig, but it was preferable for him to go and see the blond than sit here another minute, crying and miserable.

Feliciano sat beside his brother for over an hour, just drawing in his brother's comforting presence. It wasn't often he was able to rely on his brother like this. With a sigh, he put the iron cross on around his neck and stood up, having made his mind. "T-Take me to Ludwig's f-fratello... Por favore"

It took much effort on Lovino's part to get up. He wanted no part of dealing with the bastard, he had never liked him after all, but it was important to Feliciano. He walked down the hall into the kitchen and grabbed the car keys. "Come on fratello. If I must go with you... we may as well get this over with sooner rather than later." He grumbled, leading the way to the car.

Lovino had stayed in the car, much to Feliciano's protest and fear, but once he walked inside and actually took in the state of Ludwig's house, he was grateful for his brother's stubbornness at refusing to get out of the car. He wasn't there to see the flash of pain that brought Feliciano to his knees. What was going on with Ludwig?

The German's house, normally OCD status in it's cleanliness, was a mess. All the lights were off, a thin layer of dust coated just about everything. Dirty plates, empty glasses, and dirty clothing were scattered all across the living room, but perhaps the most alarming change was the overwhelming amount of empty, and sometimes even broken beer bottles. The house smelled strongly of the alcohol, to the point it made Feliciano's eyes water. "L-Luddy?" He called quietly, his voice cracking as he headed up the stairs. He was overly cautious on the stairs, afraid to slip on one of the empty bottles. "L-L...Luddy? Ve... G-Germany?" He called again, softer than before. He slowed as he approached Ludwig's door, until he was completely stopped, hand extended to turn the knob. He just... couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't have the strength to open the door as painful memories assaulted him.

_Feliciano sat on Ludwig's lap, leaning back against his chest with a soft, content sigh. Ludwig had his arms wrapped around his Italian's waist and his chin rested on the bubbly man's shoulder. The strong German man was almost alseep as they sat there, but Feliciano didn't mind. He was worried about his Ludwig... He knew the man hadn't been sleeping well at night, if he slept at all. When he was able to sleep, he would wake up screaming from nightmares...often telling people to run away from soldiers... his soldiers. _

_ Feliciano wasn't as oblivious as everyone made him out to be. He knew Ludwig was keeping something from him, but at the same time he knew that Ludwig would tell him what was up when he felt ready. So instead of pressing,Feliciano sat in silence, dozing off against his German's chest. He wasn't able to doze long though, as three SS officers in full uniform came into the room. With angry shouts, the tore Feliciano from Ludwig's protective arms and roughly shoved him against the wall, drawing a cry of pain from him._

_ At the sound of his cry, Ludwig woke and got to his feet, eyes blazing with a dark, terrible fury Feliciano had never seen before. The expression made him cower in fear more than the rough treatment had. "I told you arschlochs not to touch him! Let him go. NOW!" He thundered, his voice all but vibrating with the strength of his rage, and the power making the officer's instinctivly step back in fear. They let go immediately and watched with confused eyes as Feliciano sprinted to Ludwig's side. He hugged Ludwig tightly, rapidly spewing terrified words in Italian. _

_ The highest ranking officer stepped forward hesitantly. "Sir. You realize that this man is Italian... He could be a spy! Italy joined the allied powers, and yet you have an Italian in your office! How do you know he isn't trying to destroy the German military?" _

_ Ludwig had lost interest in the officer's words as he heard a gasp from beside him and he felt Feliciano recoil from him, backing as far away from the German men as he could. "Q-Que? W-We are at w-w-war? Ve~" He whispered, his eyes flashing with terror, anger and an agony none of them could begin to understand.. The pain in his eyes strengthened further as he caught sight of Ludwig's carefully neutral eyes. _

_ Without turning to address them properly, Ludwig dismissed the officers behind him with a wave of his gloved hand. "Get out of my office. I will deal with you three later." He commanded, voice deceptivly calm. The calm in his voice didn't fool the officers though, as they tripped over one another in their hast to follow the order with terrified eyes. He waited for them to leave before further addressing the hurt, very confused Italian before him. "Feliciano. Italy switched sides in the war months ago. I've tried my best to keep my troops out of direct battle between Italian soldiers and ourselves, though I have to follow my boss' orders." He said in an overly formal tone. He walked over to his desk and retrieved a thick, fancy envelope._

_ "Why didn't you tell me?" Feliciano demanded, tears streaming down his face. The look of betrayal and the agony in his voice was clear in everything he did at this point. He accepted the envelope, but didn't dare open it when Ludwig left it in his hands._

_ Ludwig calmly met his eyes, his blue ones burning with some unidentifiable emotion briefly. "I don't like hurting you." He said, voice firm and eyes becoming carefully neutral again. "No go. Get out of here before I am ordered to capture, or kill you. I'd prefer you not read what is inside the envelope until you are alone and safe at home in Italy... Es tut mir leid mein Italien." _

_ Felicaino couldn't believe his ears. Was... This it then? He looked down at the envelope with confused, teary eyes for a moment, and with a heavy sigh, he turned to leave. He wasn't able to get more than a step or two before a gloved hand came down on his shoulder, causing him to linch and whimper softly in fear. He turned and looked up into Ludwig's eyes, looking positivly miserable. His eyes widened in surprise as Ludwig removed his iron cross from around his neck and placed it around Feliciano's neck. "If you get stopped... show them this. I'll... order mein soldiers to grant an Italian with this cross aroung his neck safe passage out of Germany for two days. After that... Don't come back." Ludwig said, voice growing impossibly harsh and bitter as he turned away and left the Italian he had loved behind in his office, not once looking back._

"Don't come back... He said don't come back..." Feliciano whispered to himself, feeling the weight of the still unopened letter in his pocket. He could never bring himself to read what was inside... just like he couldn't bring himself to open Ludwig's door now. He had said to never come back, so what if Ludwig was mad he was there now?

Feliciano jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Wide eyed, he spun around to face the intruder, speaking a mile a minute. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to come into your house uninvited! I just wanted to- Elizabeta!" He said, breaking off on his rambling in surprise. "Ve~ Why are you here?

Eliza smiled sadly. In her arms she held two bottles of beer, something that may or may not have contained soup, and a CD with some German title that Feliciano didn't understand. "It's good to see you dear... I visit him everyday. He isn't doing well at all... He misses his brother and you more than I think anyone could ev-" She was cut off by a sudden blast of very loud, very angry sounding German music. Rolling her eyes, Elizabeta set down the things she had had in her arms and led Feliciano downstairs into the living room. She still had to talk rather loudly to be heard over the thunderous bass of Ludwig's music. "I told him if he ever tried to blast me out with that God awful Rammstein..." She trailed off, still muttering to herself. When she saw Feliciano's worried eyes flicker up the stairs, she sighed. "He isn't doing very well... Ludwig very well might be dying Feli. He doesn't want to live. Why would he? His people are so full of hatred and misery from the wall and the depression, he's lost you and his brother, the two people he trusted and loved most in his life... He's hurting dear. In his eyes right now, all he has is me... But I'm not the face he wants to see every day or two. All he does anymore is lay in bed, alone in the dark with his angry music and a beer... He's chooses not to try and get better, so he has little strength of his own... Please. Tell me you aren't here to yell at him dear... There isn't anything you could say that would make him feel worse than he already is."

Feliciano felt guilt and confusion course through him. Ludwig couldn't miss him, could he? "You... No that can't be right. Luddy told me to leave... To leave and never come back. Why would he miss me?" He asked in a small, scared voice as he looked back towards the stairs. He wanted very much to believe Elizabeta, but he remembered what Ludwig had said, and that had been not to come back.

"Stupid child... He _loves_ you Feliciano. He told you to go away to _protect_ you. Not because he hated you, or truly wanted you to stay away, but because he wanted to make sure you stayed safe. Don't you think it would have been extremely difficult for him to protect you here, when Italy had just hopped ship? His troops thought of any and all Italians as the enemy. It would have been next to impossible. The only reason you made it out of here alive in th first place was because he convinced all his soldiers, all his citizens, even his boss that you didn't know. He convinced them of your ignorance... And took your punishment... So that you could go home safely..." Elizabeta explained desperately, her voice low and urgent. She had to try at persuade Feliciano that she was telling the truth, it would help Ludwig.

Shock swelled in Feliciano's warm brown eyes. "Ve~ Wh-What? That... No it... It can't... Is that true?" The samll Italian man looked terribly confused and his eyes burned with a foolish hope. Could Ludwig really have been so cold to him to save his life? It certainly sounded like something his Ludwig would do.

Elizabeta's eyes flickered faintly with hope. "Go upstairs!" She pressed, gently pushing him towards the stairs. " Go upstairs and talk to him! See what he has to say for yourself! But..." A wary, almost terrified look dulled the Hungarian woman's eyes. "Be gentle with him. If you bring up the wrong thing... He snap..." She warned in a whisper. Her face had paled and she looked nervously up the stairs as she warned of what could happen.

Feliciano's eyes grew fearful, but he was determined to speak to Ludwig, to see the German man this time. He raced up the stairs and down the hall to Ludwig's room. Before he could lose his bravery, he opened the door and took a step inside, going half deaf from the volume of the angry German music. He stopped after he had taken a couple steps inside, confusion in his eyes. The withered looking man in his German's bed didn't look at all like Ludwig. The man had very brittle, paper thin, ashen skin that clung to the bones in his face and chest in a grotesque fashion, his bones showing prominent. Grease, grey-blonde hair covered the man's head, sticking up in random directions looking disheveled. His breath rasped harshly in his throat and rattled sickeningly in his chest, sounding almost as though fluid was trapped inside his lungs. With the realization that he could hear breathing at all, he shivered. That meant the music had turned off. He stared at the man's face as he began to speak. "V-Ve~ Sorry... I-I th-" He cut off with a choked gasp as the man;s eyes opened and fixed themselves on him.

There was no mistaking those clear blue eyes, even in the lifeless, dull, miserable state they were in. This withered, sickened man was Ludwig. "Oh Luddy..." Feliciano whispered in a shaken, grieved voice. He ran to the German's side, forgetting everything but his care for this man. His throat was tight and thick with emotion and tears streamed down his face as he took one of Ludwig's skeletal, trembling hands.

The entire time Feliciano had been moving to him, Ludwig's blue eyes had followed, looking desperate as if he was afraid the Italian, the man he loved more than just about anything, would disappear. "Feliciano..." He whispered in a painfully weak whisper. "Es tut mir leid... Es tut mir leid... I know you hate me. I know. I... tried..." He trailed off and was silent for a moment save his harsh breathing, eyes half closed. "I tried to protect you... Everything I could do to keep you safe, I did..." He finished after a while

With a small whimper, Feliciano sat on the edge of Ludwig's bed, his eyes were bright with sorrow and confusion. "Why did you tell me to never come back? Why... did you seem to not even care when I had to leave? I would have come to see you all the time despite us being on opposite sides in the war..." He whispered as he pressed Ludwig's frail hand to his tear streaked face.

Ludwig made a strange, low and raspy sound that could only be described as a laugh. "That's why I had to send you away...Why I had to make sure you thought I didn't want you here. I wasn't risking the loss of your life just to see me Feli... I just... didn't realize it would hurt as much as it did... As much as it does..." He rasped, trying hard to find his voice instead of whispering. "Elizabeta thinks that I'm dying... Not that I'd mind it much. I don't really have a desire to live without mein bruder... Or without you."

A burning emotion blazed inside Feliciano's eyes as he glared down at the fragile German man. "No! You can't die Luddy! You are not alone! I am here now and won't go anywhere, no matter what you say! You-" He was cut off by a surprisingly firm hand on his shoulder. After a second he realized it wasn't Ludwig's hand on his shoulder, it was Elizabeta's.

"Enough Feliciano." Elizabeta warned, watching Ludwig cautiously as she caught the spark of anger that flashed in his dull blue eyes. "He does have a point though I suppose. You are not alone. I am here for you as well. Why else would I put up with your disturbing music?" She teased with a faint smile on her lips, though the light expression quickly faded as Ludwig just sighed and looked away.

"What's done is done... Nothing can change that now. You both might be here for me, but the rest of the orld hates me and I can't see mein bruder. Nein... I'd rather just die. Save everyone the trouble." He whispered, sounding absolutely defeated and broken.

Felicano felt his heart break and the tears streaming down his face fell faster and thicker than before. "Giving up is my job! Not yours. You damn well better hang in there Ludwig. Don't you dare give up now." The Italian insisted, his voice stubborn and firm, very unlike him. With determination, he locked his eyes on Ludwig's. "You will not just give up. Promise me." His voice held such a strong convection, both Ludwig and Elizabeta looked surprised.

Despite his surprise at the power in Feliciano's voice, Ludwig couldn't promise that he wouldn't give up... He already had. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, the same defeated look on his face. "I... can't. Es tut mir leid Feliciano... But I can't."

Feliciano frowned, getting both angry and scared. He let go of Ludwig's hand and left the room with a nearly silent "Ti amo."

Elizabeta followed after Felicaino with distressed, worried eyes. "No... You can't leave! You can't give up on him when he's already given up! No..." She begged him desperately. "You can't give up on I'm alre-"

" I'm not giving up on him Miss Eliza." The Italian said, eyes full of a strong determination. Today was a day full of surprises apparently, as Feliciano just kept on showing uncharacteristic qualities. "I'm going to bust Gilbert out of Ivan's control, and you are going to help me do it." Feliciano said, speaking right over Elizabeta impatiently.

"What? You... You want to... what?" Elizabeta stammered, staring at Feliciano uncomprehendingly.

"I'm going to bust Gilbert out of Ivan's control and bring him home... And you are going to help me." Feliciano said again, looking determined.

Elizabeta's eyes widened and she sighed heavily, not really sure what to think. "This is suicide. Feliciano you don't have any idea how... Ivan won't take a raid well... I'm sure he's keeping Gilbert at his house in Russia to keep him from getting any ideas of hoping the wall...The two of us won't be enough t-"

"So you're just going to let Luddy give up and die because you're too afraid to try and fix it? I expect that from myself... Not from you though." Feliciano accused, eyes narrowing dangerously.

Elizabeta looked annoyed and she glared at the Italian with furious eyes. "I wasn't done Feliciano! Don't interrupt or I won't help you! If you would have let me finish, I was going to say the two of us won't be enough for what you want to do, so we are going to have to ask around to try and find some people to help." She growled, relaxing only because Feliciano back away from her apologetically.

"Ve~ Sorry... I'm just so worried for him... I've never seen him weak before... ever... I'll talk to Kiku... He might help us... Antonio too. He's been Gilbert's best friend for years... Go home and prepare... I'll tell everyone to at your house in three days. I know that isn't long... but the sooner e gather, the sooner we leave... others come or not though, I will be going to Ivan's in three days." Feliciano said firmly, not a trace of fear in his eyes. As Elizabeta turned to leave, he caught her arm. "Tell my fratello to go home and come back for me tomorrow... I don't want to leave Ludwig alone tonight." He said before turning without another word to head back up the stairs to his broken German. _You can't give up on me now Luddy... Ti amo! I don't want you to die... especially not when it is partially my fault._ The small Italian thought to himself as he re-entered Ludwig's room.

The German hadn't moved at all since he and Elizabeta had left, though his eyes had closed once again. Feliciano moved to his side with a soft, sad smile on his lips and gently he placed a trembling had to Ludwig's ashen face. Slowly, Ludwig's eyes fluttered open, though it might have been easier if they had remained closed with all the depression and self-loathing in their dull, cerulean depths. "I should have fought back against them. I should have insisted that Germany was mine and no one else's. I should have... I should have stopped them from killing all those people... I... I-" But he was cut off by a hand against his lips.

"Luddy... Luddy stop. That is all in your past. Stop dwelling on it... si? I didn't come here to see you beat yourself up over things you can no longer change. The other nations will come around eventually." Italy whispered in a soft voice, reluctant to speak louder than Ludwig seemed capable of. After a few minutes of miserable silence, the Italian's eyes narrowed slightly and he laid down beside Ludwig, head resting on his alarmingly bony shoulder, and hand resting against his concaving chest. The position was one he was very familiar with... but the feeling of how slender the usually strong, muscular nation was terrified Feliciano. _I will make you feel better Luddy... I promise. _He thought as the German wrapped frail, shaky arms around him in response.

"Es tut mir leid, Italien." The looking in his eyes, so void of any sign of life, as he whispered was heart breaking to say the least. It took more strength than Feliciano thought he had not to turn from the German and weep. Instead, he reached up and kissed Ludwig's next, the closest thing to his mouth that he could reach. Slowly, after a stretch of silence, his brown eyes grew heavy and he found it hard to stay awake.

Ludwig didn't realize the slender Italian in his arms had drifted off into sleep until he heard Feliciano's gentle snores against his chest. He tried desperately for sleep, but no matter what he did, his brain taunted him with haunting memories, preventing him from even shutting his eyes, fearing the pictures his mind would conjure up. He couldn't help but remember what had happened the last time Feliciano had been at his house.

_Ludwig watched as his tawny haired, ditsy Italian left out the back door of his two story home. There was do doubt, judging by the way his shoulders shook, that he was crying as he went. Why wouldn't he be though? Ludwig had just told him to leave, something he swore he'd never do, and on top off it all, to never come back. Even knowing he had saved the small Italian's life, Ludwig's heart felt mangled and broken in his chest. He hated admitting that weakness, even to himself. The only reason he was able to function after Feliciano had left, was because of the letter he had written. Hopefully... Hopefully that would show his Feli that he still... Still loved him._

_ It was as he struggled over that thought when the Nazi officers from before barged into Ludwig's office for a second time, this time slamming the door back against the wall so hard, the plaster cracked where the knob hit it. Ludwig's boss, Adolf Hitler himself, was leading them forward, a dark, calculating scowl on his face. Ludwig knew he was in trouble before the man even had a chance to speak, knowing he didn't usually openly show his anger, or punish his people himself. "You are to report to the prison hold immediately to carry out the punishment of treason. A punishment of 50 lashes." The charismatic dictator of Germany said in a voice that held no room for argument, even though the maximum amount of lashes was 40. "After such punishment has been carried out, you will be assigned a soldier to accompany you wherever you go. Try to shake your guard, you will be immediately murdered by a firing squad." The man commanded, motioning for the officers that had accompanied him to chain the grieving German and lead him to the truck outside that would transport them to transport them to the military outpost in the outskirts of southern Berlin. With an ever prideful, commanding, intimidating posture, Ludwig allowed himself to be lead from his own home in shackles without a fight._

_ Whispers raced through the bas on arrival once the nation was escorted through the base and detained in a detention cell. Many of the soldiers' faces held looks of livid fury. Many brave souls attempted to rise up and free their nation, but all were quickly shot down by grim faced SS soldiers. All of them, murdered without a tear or second thought. _

_ It didn't take more than half an hour before Ludwig was marched from the cell, head high and refusing to show fear, or any emotion, even as his people were gunned down around him. He was forced to his knees in front of the whipping post, old blood dried on the wood and caked in the dirt on the ground. "Ludwig Beilschmidt is charged with 50 lashed for being caught in the act of high treason against the Vaterland." Hitler's voice sounded behind him, tone cold and uncaring. As he spoke, Ludwig's military jacket and black tank top were cut from his skin, leaving his muscled back exposed to the world around him. He felt the gloved hand of a Nazi officer hold him forcefully to the post as he was chained to it to prevent him from trying to fight back. The officer moved back to carry out the punishment when the Fuehrer took the whip from him, causing a startled wave of whispers to sound through the crowd that had gathered. _

_ The cold hearted dictator raised the whip and with a furious sounding "Eins" he brought it down across the exposed flesh of Ludwig's back with all his strength. White hot pain exploded across Ludwig's back, blinding him with it's strength as his back arched at a sever angle from the blow with a jerk. He refused to make a sound, even though the agony refused to fade, but strengthened as the leather was dragged through the gouge mark and raised above Hitler's head, blood droplets cascading like crimson tears to the dusty ground. _

_ "Zwei!" The snarl echoed around the base, eerie as it was the only sound. The soldiers all seemed to hold their breath as the whip as brought down across their nation's back again. Foolishly, many felt as though their hearts were enduring the blows even as Ludwig was. It was apparent to all that the blows strengthened instead of weakened, crimson blood pouring from the strong man's back in sheets, staining the band of his pants and splashing to the ground in puddles of red. As the watched Ludwig suffered silently through the whipping, there wasn't a single soldier, SS or Wehrinacht that didn't feel a sense of pride as Germans, staring in disbelief, but satisfaction that Ludwig didn't utter a single sound, not even when the Fuehrer snarled out a livid "Funfzig" and that tip of the whip clipped Ludwig's cheek. _

_ Ludwig was very near a state of unconsciousness, only the fact that he was a nation having kept him awake and feeling the bone jarring agony of each biting lash to his back. He was all but blinded with the strength of his pain, head spinning nauseatingly. His wrists were mangled from straining so hard against the shackles, cut to the bone in gaping, mouth like trenches, and his back was nothing more than an abused, shredded slab of torn meat, not a single piece of flesh escaping the blows of the whip. Just when he thought he was finished, his boss's livid eyes scored his bloodied frame. "Turn him around." He growled, shooting randomly into the crowd to silence the uproar of indignant, corybantic voices. _

_ Without announcing his plans, he raised the whip once more and sent it lashing from the base of Ludwig's neck, to the opposite hip, creating a deep gouge diagonally across the German's front. Ludwig had had no time to brace himself for the unexpected blow, and as his agony reached unparallel heights, he unleashed a whimpered cry through his clenched teeth, causing a satisfied smirk to form on Hitler's face. "Take him away." He commanded before sliding the blood off of the whip with his hand and winding it up. _

_ A group of Nazi commanders hailed and unchained Ludwig, forcing him to walk under his own power. The German man made it half way across the bas before his legs gave out under his weight and his sight tunneled from blood loss and his tortured suffering. Angry voices screamed at him to get up and steel toed boots slammed against his sides brutally, breaking multiple ribs. Unable to hold on any longer, Ludwig finally slipped into a state of unconsciousness, oblivious to the pain that held his body and heart in a vice like grip._

As he remembered, Ludwig brushed his bony fingers along the ropey scar on his chest, trembling out of the fear and pain the memory had brought on. Subconsciously he tightened his hold on Feliciano, who, in his sleep, mumbled "Ti amo Luddy" With the small Italian's words, Ludwig was eventually able to relax as a feeling of peace washed through him. That all had happened because he loved this man, and now he was trying to just give up. Maybe he could live just a little longer while he still had him. With that decision, Ludwig slipped into a restful sleep with the first smile he had expressed in months.

Feliciano was pacing Ludwig's living room as the eyes of the people who came to help stared up at him, waiting for him to share the plan. At first he had thought only five people were going to make up the rescue party; Elizabeta, Lovino, Antonio, Kiku and himself, but when the Spaniard and his brother had arrived, a furious Brit had been in toe with them. "I didn't realize we were here to break out the Prussian you bloody git! I know sending him with Ivan was wrong, but I'm not letting you risk your life for that wanker! If I wanted to get killed by the Russian, I'd invade him myself!" Arthur fumed. The only reason he was against the idea, was because it had such a great potential to fall and get them all killed.

Antonio sighed, looking a bit apologetic, and wrapped an arm around the seething man. Slowly he leaned in to him and whispered something inaudible to the others in Arthur's ear, hugging him in a reassuring manner. To everyone's surprise, worry flashed across the Brit's face before he buried it against the tanned neck of his Spaniard. "It's not me I'm worried about love. I was a pirate and the leader of the British Empire. I can handle Ivan... I'm just thinking it impractical to..." Arthur just shook his head and sighed, pressing his reddening face against Antonio's neck more firmly. "I'm just worried for you... That bloody German bombed the hell out of me. I don't think an attempt to save his life is worth risking yours... Even if that means Gilbert is lost to him, and us as well."

A flash of something close to irritation crossed Antonio's eyes, but it disappeared before Arthur had a chance to look up and see it. "Iggy... You forget I was a conquistador as well. I promise you, we'll all be fine. He's my friend. I can't just let Ivan overtake him. If you aren't willing to risk my life for the German, then risk my life for me. Si? It will be alright. Wel'll go and get Gilbert without Ivan even realizing he is gone." Antonio assured with a smile, the expression turning into a full blown grin when Feliciano nodded in agreement.

"Si. Antonio is right. I have a plan! Ve~ I'll explain..."


	3. Chapter 3

**So anyone else excited about Hetalia Beautiful World? The new animation was amazing! :D Still don't own Hetalia**

**Warnings: Mild to moderate torture scene.**

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Gilbert laid across the bed in his cell, arms protectively cradling his chest. He was beat up, bruised and bloody, but the defiance, luminous in his crimson eyes, that he still showed aloud anyone who looked at him to know he was not broken. His silver haired was unkempt and knotted. His albino pale skin, usually nearly translucent, was more black and blue than it was a clear white. His breath rattled harshly with each gurgled, wheezing breath. Even till, when the Russian entered his cell, he glared at the man defiantly and forced himself to a sitting position. "What do you want with the awesome me now?" Gilbert growled, his vexation tangible in the air. Dread knotted his stomach, but he kept his gaze steady and prayed fervently that the fear stayed out of his eyes.

"Kolkolkol. Prussiya. Gilbert. You know what I be wanting. You will be giving me nation, da?" Ivan purred, walking over to the albino with a childish smile. The expression was unsettling on the big man's face. With a giggle, Ivan ran the tip of his pipe along a sickening black bruise that stretched across Gilbert's ribs. "Become one with me." His voice was barely more than a whisper as he loomed over the smaller nation, pipe pressing down against the wicked bruise.

Gilbert winced at the pressure, pain spiking through him as Ivan played with the marking. At the Russian's words he jerked back with a soft curse of pain, head swimming nauseatingly for a brief moment. "Nein! Arschloch! Why would I give Prussia to someone like you?" He barked, pulling his knees protectively to his chest. His crimson eyes were bright with vehemence. "Prussia is mine, and even if it wasn't you can't just take it and expect my people to accept you."

"You're people are all dying Gilbert. Give them to me and they will be living, or be keeping them for yourself and feel them suffer and scream in pain as you be slowly fading away with their deaths!" Ivan said in a calm voice, eyes much too excited by the idea. "I be trying to help, da?" His smile had turned from childish to mischievous, his eyes calculating as they stared down at the battered Prussian, almost as if he was trying to pull Gilbert's weaknesses just by watching him.

Defiant eyes raised to challenge Ivan as Gilbert sat up a little taller, not wanting to look as weak as he felt. "Nein. You don't care about my people. You care about winning your stupid little dominance games, and you've just chosen the awesome me as your target. I know how you work Ivan. You only care about making sure I am as miserable and broken as possible because no one deserves to be happy while you are alone and suffering!" Gilbert was cut off from his rant with a cry of pain as Ivan roared furiously and cracked him over the head with the pipe, blood immediately flowing down the albino's neck in a river of hot, sticky blood. It took him a minute to find his voice again. "I'm... not ready... to give up..." He rasped, breath wheezing out of him in short bursts of pained gasps. Despite the pain his eyes held an unparalleled loathing as he glowered at his Russian captor.

The cruel and sadistic look that crossed Ivan's face sent Gilbert's heart thundering against his bruised chest, and for good reason. He had seen the look before, and each time had resulted in abuse. He didn't have to wait long at all, for Ivan gripped his pipe tightly and with deadly strength he swung the pipe, connecting with a sickening crack against his shoulder blade. Alarmingly, it hurt more to move his arm after the blow than the blow itself, immediately making it clear to Gilbert that the bone was most likely broken. With his shriek of pain, he uncurled and clutched at his shoulder, realizing too late he left his more vulnerable ribs exposed to his captor. He couldn't stop the shudder of fear from coursing through him at the crazed grin that made it's way across Ivan's face, nor the screech of agony as the pipe found it's way against his ribs, almost precisely across the bruise that had already been there. At least two cracks sounded, and suddenly Gilbert was extremely wary of Ivan. If the Russian wasn't careful, he'd end up killing his albino prisoner.

The Prussian's howls of agony echoed deafeningly around the small cell as Ivan struck him again and again, almost every blow resulting in a new broken bone. Ivan would only stop when he begged him to, or when he passed out, but Gilbert was too prideful for his own good, something he knew his brother suffered from as well, and he refused to give Ivan the satisfaction of seeing him beg. Instead, with painful, labored breaths and an agonized, shuddering frame, Gilbert did all that he could do. Endure. He resorted to soft moans as Ivan continued to abuse him, finding his screams to be nearly as painful as the beatings. He was certain multiple ribs were broken, and the taste of blood in his throat and the rattle he could both feel and hear deep in his chest when he breathed made him suspect a lung had been punctured. _Gott verdammt... just... just stop... Bitte! What do you gain besides my hatred?_ He thought, bringing a shuddering hand to his cheek as he felt a salty tear slip from his eyes. A wretched cough left his sides in stitches as his lungs fought for breath desperately, crimson, foamy flecks of blood spattering Ivan and the mattress he had the unfortunate privilege to be laying on. Even still he forced himself to a sitting position and glared with all the resentment he could muster. "You're... A... Gott verd... verdammt... Mons-" He was cut off with a flash of white, then black nothingness as the pipe wielding Russian struck him across the temple, rendering him unconscious.

"It is shame. If you would be agreeing to giving me Prussia... I wouldn't be needing to hurt you, da?" Ivan said with feigned regret as he looked down at the mutilated, unmoving albino man. His chest was stained a dark crimson, as was his temple. He admired the spider web like pattern that had formed across Gilbert's temple from his shattered skull, cheek bone, and eye socket. "Such a waste. I will be breaking your spirit Prussiya." He murmured, kissing the man's bloodied temple with something close to affection before he left. "We will be discussing this again when you are waking up."

Even in his unconscious state Gilbert was unable to escape from his misery as he was plagued with crushing memories of his little brother.

_"Hold on Luddy... Hold on." Gilbert begged, his voice cracking and broken as he held the semiconscious, injured boy in his arms. Ludwig hadn't fully woken back up since he had slipped into unconsciousness on the battle field... and now that they were home, that seriously concerned the albino Prussian man. "Luddy please... Bitte... Just hold on. Wake up bruderchen. Bitte!" He begged, desperately wanting his brother to be ok. Just as he was about to leave to find better help, Ludwig shot up with a scream of terror, blue eyes flying wide open._

_ "NEIN!" The little boy cried in fear before he collapsed against the bed, doubling over as pain rocketed through his abdomen and head. He felt sick to his stomach and he whimpered pitifully in agony and fear. "Nein..." He cried softly, tears streaming down his cheeks. What was going on? Where was he? WHO was he? Why did he hurt? His brain spun nauseatingly with questions and a stream of blood dribbled from his mouth. As unfamiliar arms surrounded him he whimpered in gripping terror and tried to shove the form away weakly, but as the unfamiliar man talked... recognition flickered faintly in his brain. Did he know this man? _

_ Gilbert looked hurt when Ludwig pushed him away. "Luddy? Bruder it is ok... You are safe. Es tut mir leid! Es tut mir leid!" The man whispered, crimson eyes dull and broken as they welled with tears. "I should have been there faster... I should never have let you go alone... I will take care of you bruderchen... I promise." He whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair behind Ludwig's ear and kissing the boy's temple, but when he pulled back he frowned. Ludwig was looking at him like he was a total stranger. The boy's blue eyes were huge and confused, wary but not necessarily afraid. "...Bruder?" He asked hesitantly, fear gripping his heart. What was wrong with Ludwig?_

_ "Who... Es tut mir leid... But should I know you? ...Who are you? Und... Und what happened to me? Who... Who am I?" He asked in a tiny, frightened voice. The fear strengthened further when the strange silver haired man before him howled in a heart wrenching pain the boy couldn't begin to understand. Had he said something wrong? "Es tut mir leid... I d-didn't mean to upset you..."_

_ "Nein! Not him... Not mein bruder! GOTT VERDAMMT why him?!" Gilbert wailed despondently, completely shattered. When he realized he was upsetting the small child he broke off with his horrible, choking sobs and attempted to smile reassuringly at his little brother. "E-Es... Es tut mir leid... J...Ja. You know me little one... You know m-m..." Gilbert stopped, unable to restrain the choked sob that escaped his throat. Tears cascaded down his pale cheeks as he took the little boy's hand and kissed it softly. "You know me little one... I am your alter bruder, Gilbert Beilschmidt... You are... So very important and special to me... You are Ludwig Beilschmidt und... Und you got hurt..." He hesitated, not wanting to tell the boy what had happened if he didn't have to. After a minute his crimson eyes flitted up to meet Ludwig's confused blue ones, surprised to see them looking so very serious and trained on his destroyed face. "Do you not remember me at all?"_

_ Ludwig felt awful. He could tell he was supposed to know this man, he felt so much better when he had taken his hand and kissed it, so much better when he had smiled , no matter how weak the expression was. He wanted to tell the albino... his brother? He wanted to tell his brother, yes, that sounded right, that he remembered him, but he didn't want to lie or hurt him. "I... I recognize your voice... Und it feels like I should know you. You're smile and touch made me not so scared... Made me not scared at all... But... I don't know who you are... But don't look so sad... I don't remember you, but I believe you... bruder." He explained with a small, shy smile that strengthened when Gilbert weakly smiled back and puled him into a hug. He didn't remember this man... His brother... But he knew without a doubt he was safe in his arms._

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**Hopefully you all made it through that. I take full responsibility for any murdered feels. Review? :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Decided to upload aother chapter this weekend. Yay! Still don't ow Hetalia**

**Warnings: Nothing too bad this time, just angry words.**

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Feliciano glanced at the faces behind him. Elizabeta look determined, Kiku serious, Antonio antsy and impatient to go in and rescue his Prussian friend. Lovino looked bored and a bit nervous, Arthur looked confident and ready, tough he wasn't entirely sure the British man wanted to be there. The Italian was glad they had all come with him, but he was starting to rethink his plans to go into Ivan's house. He was terrified and wanted nothing more than to be the Italian he was, waving a white flag of surrender and sprinting back to his German's house. _No. I need to do this for Ludwig. This will make him better..._ He reminded himself firmly, attempting to swallow his fear. "Alright. Ve~ Antonio and Arthur. You are going to inform Ivan about a suspicion that Lovi and I are planning on sneaking over the wall to find Gilbert. You two lead him to the opposite end of the wall. Get him as far away from his house as possible. Kiku... You go and watch the main guard tower. Radio in if any Russians start to make their way to the house. Elizabeta, Lovino and I will then go into Ivan's house, find Gilbert, and get him over the wall to West Germany. Once we cross over the wall, we'll let you know it is safe to find your ways back over. From there you all can either meet back at Luddy's, or go home." Feliciano explained the plan one last time before glancing at Arthur and Antonio, a silent sign for them to go.

Antonio casually held his ax and took Arthur's hand, smiling in his arrogant, charming way. Of everyone there, the Spaniard looked the least concerned with the potentially dangerous plan they all were about to take part in. His emerald eyes blazed with confidence and the corners of his eyes were crinkled with his smile. :Well. We'll see you all later, si? Oh... Feli... You owe me pasta for this amigo. Come on Iggy. Let's go play with a Russian. Antonio chirped happily as he pulled Arthur along with him towards the house.

The others watched as the couple made their way to the door, all of them secretly afraid, though no one would admit it. There were just too many things that could go wrong... Feliciano was about to call them back and come up with a safer plan when the words died in his throat as the door opened and the Spaniard and Brit walked inside. "Ve~ I guess we've got to go through with this now.." He whispered nervously to himself.

Antonio strolled through Ivan's house one hand still casually holding onto his ax while the other hand and arm had wrapped around the now trembling Arthur's waist. "So Ivan... I must say this isn't exactly what I had expected. This house is much different than the one you have in Russia. Navy walls and a fluffy looking couch? Not something I had expected when Iggy and I decided to drop by."

"I like variety da? Having same thing would be boring." Ivan said, sounding a bit short and frowning slightly. He was already in a poor mood from Gilbert's defiance earlier. He didn't want to have to deal with these two on top of that. "What is it you are wanting?"

A slightly shaken Arthur glanced at Ivan before he spoke. " We have heard that there are plans for someone to hop the wall and try to rescue Gilbert." He said briskly, voice even and business like despite how apprehensive he was on the inside.

Ivan's lavender eyes darkened and flashed with anger. "Nyet! No one will be hopping wall! Where are you hearing this from?" The Russian demanded, glaring down on both Antonio and Arthur, causing them both to take an involuntary step back.

"No need for that. It isn't us. We just thought you should know, amigo. We can take you to where we expect them to cross" Spain said, hiding his sudden panic. _Was it the Italians who were crossing the wall or the Germans? And... Did we have the center of the wall? Or was it the southern end... Dios mio! I don't remember! _

"Nyet! Not until you say who and where you heard this" Ivan snapped, eyes narrowing dangerously in suspicion. He could feel that something wasn't quite right, he just didn't know exactly what it was. It bothered him and irritated him as he mulled over the different possibilities while the Spaniard and Brit before I'm tried their hardest to keep up a calm facade.

It was Arthur who spoke this time in response to his question, a knot of unease tight in the pit of his stomach. "Francis. Francis said he was talking to Feliciano and Lovino. He said Feli was worried about Ludwig so his brother suggested coming here to kidnap Gilbert and bring him back to Ludwig in West Germany. Feliciano agreed, surprisingly, so Francis called me in a crazed stupor, afraid they were going to get themselves hurt. I wasn't quite sure what I was supposed to do about it, and called Antonio to ask his opinion and he suggested we come here to warn you. That way, we can head them off and no one has to get injured or killed." The lie flowed off Arthur's tongue smoothly and somehow he got a sincere light to shine in his eye, he could tell Antonio was impressed by his quick thinking when he caught the look of pure adoration in the man's jade green eyes. To his dismay though, Ivan still looked fairly suspicious.

"Surely you would have been going to talk first to them, da?" The lavender eyes of the Russian flashed dangerously and his voice was hostile. This entire thing was suspicious. It sent his skin crawling and slowly he gripped the pipe that had thus far been hiding in his trench coat. If they were lying, he resolved, they'd pay for it.

"We did. But... Uh..." Antonio tried to think quickly, but his brain was muddled and e really wasn't nearly as good at lying like Arthur was. _Think! Why didn't it work? Why didn't they listen to us..._ "But..." He groped around for a lie in his head, looking helplessly at Arthur.

_Bloody wanker! You're going to ruin it all!_ Arthur mentally shouted as he leapt to his floundering Spaniard's rescue. "We did try to talk to them, but Lovino was being particularly difficult. He was determined to do this because the entire nation of Italy is suffering from Feliciano's grieving over Ludwig's impending dissolve." When Ivan raised an eyebrow and glanced at the flustered looking Antonio, Arthur sighed inwardly and reached on his tip toes to kiss a tanned Spanish cheek. "Act upset." He breathed when he had drawn close enough to Antonio's ear, the kiss disguising his true intention well. "Forgive Antonio and his stuttering. He's still a bit shaken over some of the things Lovino said to him." To Arthur's immense relief, Antonio's face fell, a mask of emotionlessness, mixed with just the right amount of feigned misery.

Ivan was slowly starting to believe them, but he couldn't shake off his nagging suspicion. For a moment he was silent, contemplating what to do, and in the end he shoke his head, pale hair falling into his eyes. "We be staying here and wait for them, da? The Prussian we move to different room and we wait for them to show up. We won't be going to the wall." He said in a firm voice.

With a collective sigh, Antonio and Arthur both nodded feebly. What else could they do? It occured to Antonio that at some point they'd have to try to get word to the others, but he wasn't sure how they'd manage that when they were in Ivan's house. Unfortunately, if Feliciano, Elizabeta, and Lovino showed up now, they'd all be in trouble.

Antonio glanced at Arthur, taking in the British man's proud appearance with worried, jade green eyes as Ivan lead them out of the living room to a door under the stairs. As they drew closer, he could feel the hostility, rage and agony rolling from the door in waves. "Ivan. What's behind the door, amigo?" He said in a quiet, yet thunderous voice. His conquistador voice, rumbling with challenge. Fervently he prayed he was wrong in his suspicions, but deep down he knew who he'd find behind the door.

"Gilbert." Ivan said simply, voice bright and completely unfazed by Antonio's hostility as he unlocked the door. He stood aside to allow his guests to go down before him. "Please, you guys first."

"Are you mad?! I'm not going down there! There is no reason for me to! Why do you need us to go down there with you?" Arthur asked indignantly. If Ivan sent them down there, somehow he just knew they'd stay down there. He wasn't able to protest long though as Ivan pushed him down the stairs with a broad grin. Arthur cried out in fear as his foot slipped and he crashed against the first stair, bashing his head against the edge of the stair. Before he knew it he was bouncing down the stairs, each time he landed with a sickening impact against his back, stomach, head, ribs... He came to a bruised, bloody stop at the bottom, dazed and wracked with achy pain.

"Arthur!" Antonio cried, racing down the stairs three at a time to get to the fallen blonde man. "Damn it Ivan! Tu puta! What the hell was that for?!" He snarled furiously, gathering Arthur in his strong arms. A pained gasp fell from his lips as Arthur whimpered softly and his green eyes flicked up to the giddily laughing Russian still at the top of the stairs.

"I don't want you being in my house alone, da? Nataliya could be deciding to be dropping by. She'd kill you in my house. I don't know what you are being up to, but I will be finding out. Don't want you to be doing stupid things while I am gone, da? Kolkolkol~" Ivan giggled and slammed the door shut, sealing their fate with the sound of the lock sliding home, trapping them in his basement.

"This doesn't look good..." Arthur rasped with wide, scared emerald eyes and a soft cough. He had gashed open his head with the fall, but other than that, as far as he could tell he'd be fine. Sore and bruised, but fine. Soft, tan fingertips caressed his cheek as he spoke and he pressed against them, drawing comfort from the soft touch. "It'll be alright, love. We'll get out of this. We always do." He assured with a weak smile.

Gilbert slowly regained consciousness to the sound of a Brit speaking quietly. _Arthur. _His brain recognized the familiar voice, but it didn't understand why he was hearing Arthur's voice, nor could it decipher what he was saying. He didn't have long to muse about the oddity of hearing Arthur's voice when the intense agony exploded everywhere in his body. His sides. His chest. His back. His head. His _head_! _Mein Gott! Verdammt my head..._ He felt nauseous from the sheer amount of pain. As soon as he located the roaring, fiery agony in his head, his other aches and pains dulled and seemed to retreat into his temple, tripling the sickening sensation until it laying as still as possible was all Gilbert could manage. A weak whimper escaped his throat when he tilted his throbbing skull away from the light, and he flinched when a too loud voice said something. It took him a good five minutes to realize it was Arthur saying his name.

"Gilbert." Arthur said softly for the fifth time. He glanced worriedly at Antonio through a swollen eye. "Antonio he looks awful! I would have thought him dead if he wasn't a nation..." He whispered urgently. Recently the obnoxious albino nation had managed to irritate Arthur greatly, but he didn't hate the man and it was painful to see him so physically abused and broken like this. Even if he had hated Gilbert, no one deserved to be beaten the way Gilbert so obviously had been.

"Iggy, he isn't dead. We just saw him move and you can hear his chest rattle when he breaths... He's still alive. We'll find a way to get him out of here and fix him up... He'll be ok..." Antonio responded, though even the laid back Spanish man sounded desperately worried.

The worry in the two men's voices pricked at Gilbert's pride as he laid there. He forced himself up into a sitting position, cursing vehemently in a raspy whisper. It took him an agonizingly long amount of time and by the time he was fully upright he was drenched in an icy sweat, shaking violently and so light headed and nauseous a fountain of blood and bile spewed from his between his cracked lips, the acidic solution burning his raw throat. "I'm alive." He rasped almost silently.

"Bloody hell you lunatic! Lay back down before you hurt yourself further! We need you to tell us the best way out of here!" Arthur snapped, jumping when a few splashes of blood dribbled against his shoulder. His voice was harsh and angry from his worry and fear, but he relaxed noticeably when Antonio's arms snaked around his waist.

"Breathe amor. He was trying to make us feel better si?" Antonio's voice soothed both Arthur and Gilbert like a cool breeze amid the burning fear and pain that filled the room to bursting. "Though... He is right amigo. Sitting up probably wasn't the smartest thing to do."

A painful, wheezing sigh caught in Gilbert's throat. "Why are you here?" He rasped in his weak, whispery voice. "He catch you guys too?"

"Well.. We were supposed to lure Ivan away from here so Feliciano, Lovino and Elizabeta could come and bust you out, but the Russian wa-"

"Eliza? Liza is coming here?! What is wrong with y-" Gilbert's brief spark of anger and strength was destroyed by wracking coughs and another fountain of blood spewing from his mouth. No. Elizabeta couldn't be coming here. She needed to be home safe... They all did.

Antonio waited calmly for Gilbert to finish hacking before he continued, acting as if he hadn't been interupted. "The Russian was suspicious of us and threw us down here..."

"That's so unawesome. So now you succeeded in getting everyone captured. Gott that was smart." Gilbert tried to growl, but his voice only came out as a pitiful raspy whisper.

"He failed to mention that so far it is only us that have been captured, as far as we know. He threw us down here and it sounded like he was going somewhere, but I don't really know. He could still be watching for Feliciano and the others." Arthur said with a sigh. He wiggled out of Antonio's arms and sat on the ground slowly, wincing as his back twinged a bit in protest. "I got thrown down stairs for you Gilbert, you better be grateful we're trying to save you." He muttered.

"So where is the little tawny haired Italian then?" Gilbert asked with another round of harsh coughing. _Bruder I'm shocked. I wouldn't have thought you'd send your ditsy little Feli out to come get me. Why didn't you just come yourself?_ Gilbert thought with sadness and longing tugging at his heart. "Und more importantly, why isn't mein kleiner bruder, mein Luddy with him? It isn't like him to, one, put his Italian an danger and two, make him do his bidding... On an even more important note, I didn't realize they were even on speaking terms again..."

"You... Might want to wait to have Feliciano explain everything to you personally." Arthur said carefully, his entire being as neutral as possible. "Assuming they don't have problems with Ivan, they should be here any minute. You have to understand though, they very easily could abandon us when they realize how dangerous this is." He sounded incredibly depressed by the thought and before he knew it, Antonio had sat beside him and gently pulled him into his lap. _It might be awhile before I see home again..._ He thought, sighing softly. "We were wrong Gilbert... We all were. To think both you and Ludwig would be ok separated... to think your nations would be ok. I don't think any of us expected either of you to suffer so much and for that I am deeply sorry." Arthur met Gilbert's crimson eyes, completely sincere and regretful. "Once we do get out of here and if this comes down to a war... Know the all of Britain has your back. My brothers will be frustrated, but they won't go against what I say."

"Espana as well, amigo. I've always had your back, but it's nice to say it again. I don't like seeing you so beaten up. It is impressive to me that you haven't broken yet, though I guess it isn't surprising. Ivan doesn't seem one to give up any more than you do... What is it he wants that causes him to torture you like this though?" Antonio asked curiously, jade green eyes glittering with concern.

Gilbert was completely silent save the rattling sound that accompanied his labored breathing. His crimson eyes clouded with an undecipherable, massive amount of emotion. "My nation... Ivan... Ivan wants my nation." He whispered almost silently after a while. "He wants my nation, and is furious that I won't just lay at his feet and give it to him... So he beats me... I can't let him have Prussia... East Germany... Whatever you want to call it. I have to stay existing to get back to mein bruder..." He was silent for a long while again before looking up at Arthur and Antonio. "If we escape and this whole thing does come down to a fight, don't risk anything for me. You two don't need to be wounded on my behalf. It would just make your lives harder..."

"And what would you do if you got captured again? Ivan is treating you badly already...I don't want to imagine how much worse things could get." Antonio said firmly, an uncharacteristic frown fixed on his face as he gestured to the indent on Gilbert's temple and cheek bone from where the pipe shattered the support structures in his face. "I'll help you as long as I have the strength as a nation to."

Knowing he wouldn't give up, Gilbert just nodded with a low sigh. "Ja... Fine." He grumbled despondently. "Let's just not plan for issues, ja? Then we can all go home..."

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**They found Gilbert! But Ivan is still in the house... How are Feliciano and the others going to get them out? Review? :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hallo hallo! Here's a new chapter! :D**

**Warnings: Nothing too bad. Mostly just Feliciano and the others!**

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"Let's just go Feliciano. They probably went out the back. You want to rescue your potato bastard's fratello or not?" Lovino grumbled, pacing back and forth in front of his brother and Elizabeta, agitated and nervous. They had been waiting for Arthur and Antonio to come back out of the house with Ivan for going on three hours, and everyone's nerves were strung taught like an overstretched rubber band. "Why don't were just go inside already and get the Prussian so we can get the hell out of here?"

"Ve~ Fratello... We don't know... I don't... Eliza, what do you think?" Feliciano asked, the slightest traces of a frown on his face. This was why he wasn't the one who came up with the plans! Ludwig was! What he wouldn't give to have the strong, sometimes scary German with him now. He would know exactly what to do and have more than one plan to get Gilbert out of Ivan's hold. _Luddy... Luddy what do I do now? I don't... What if... How do I do this?!_ He wailed internally to himself. He was coming apart at the seems from the tension shared between the two, panic was slowly over taking his mind. He was trembling badly when Elizabeta wrapped her arms around him comfortingly.

"Calm down dear. I think we should go in there and find him. That's why we are here isn't it? I'm sure Antonio and Iggy took Ivan away. There's nothing to worry about Feli." Elizabeta said, her voice firm with the strength of her confidence, though inside she felt serious doubts curling inside her like an inky blackness, threatening to pull her down into a panicked state similar to the shuddering Italian in her arms. There were so many things that could go wrong, so many potential flaws in Feliciano's plan. She steeled herself when she thought of just who was in there though. Gilbert. _Gilbert._ He needed her help, and damn them all to hell if they turned back now. Gilbert meant too much to her to turn around without even trying, even if the mission did turn out to be suicidal. She fixed cool green eyes on Feliciano's face and nodded in encouragement, a serious determination etched in the planes of her face.

Meeting her eyes, Feliciano felt renewed strength flow into him and the panic that had threatened to make him turn tail dissipated. "Alright... If anyone gets hurt or we get seperated... come back here, si?"

"We know idiota! Let's just get the damned potato bastard already!" Lovino growled impatiently, and without another word he turned and sprinted for the house. He didn't once pause to see if the others were following.

"Lovi- Fratello..." Feliciano mumbled helplessly, watching his brother for a brief moment before scrambling after him, followed closely by Elizabeta. _No turning back now... This is for Luddy! For him... I'll do anything..._ "Lovino! Lovino go around the back!" Feliciano called as loudly as he dared, eyes darting nervously to the house they were fast approaching. For a brief, heart stopping moment, he thought he'd have to dare to call louder, but to his relief Lovino turned to head around the back after a moment of contemplation on the older Italian's part.

"How are we getting inside?" Elizabeta asked from just behind Feliciano. Her dress, to her dismay and nervousness, kept getting caught and twisted around her legs, threatening to make her trip. _How can I defend them and myself if my dress gets caught around my legs? _ She thought to herself, her fretting almost making her miss the tawny haired Italian's reply.

"I can't exactly remember what Luddy said about breaking into places... I know he said something about basement windows, but... I don't remember if it was to stay away from them or use them... I think it might have been use them, because something about knowing where exits are? It could just have easily been a not to though..." Feliciano said with a frown, trying his hardest to remember. _It could have been never to use basement windows because you might find yourself trapped... I don't remember!_ "Luddy I wish you were here with me... I feel so lost without you..." He whispered to himself, desperately forcing back tears of longing and frustration.

"If you're quite finished, I found the basement window. It leads into a bathroom. This where we go in or not, idiota?" Lovino muttered softly, pulling Feliciano back to the real world.

Feliciano steeled himself and nodded with a sigh. "Si... I'll go in first I guess... Elizabeta, you come in after me and then you Lovi..." He eyed the window that was level with the snow dusted ground, shuddering from nerves. Slowly he lowered himself to the ground and unlatched the window, before laying flat on his stomach and sliding through the window, feet first. His jacket rode up around him, leaving his stomach to be bitten by the clutching cold of the snow. For a few seconds he searched blindly for a place to safely put his feet, but his arms slipped in the cold, wet snow and he was sent crashing to the floor inside with a startle squeak.

"Feli? Feliciano! Are you alright?" Elizabeta called softly, drowning out an annoyed "idiota" from Lovino. Her voice was raw with worry as she peered through the window on her hands and knees in the snow. It took her a minute to adjust to the darkness of the bathroom, but when she could see, she found Feliciano sitting on his butt in a bathtub 6 or so feet below her. She couldn't deny that he looked startled, but apart from that he seemed unharmed.

"Si! Just slipped is all. Nothing to worry about." Feliciano called back after a moment of inventory on all the important parts of him. His tailbone felt bruised, but aside from that he'd be fine. Warm brown eyes flicked to the closed door nervously, wondering if anyone had heard his noisy entrance. He stood absolutely still for a good five minutes before turning back to look at Elizabeta's now slightly shivering form. "Eliza... I think you should be safe t-"

"Well... What are you doing here Feli? Kolkolkol. You be coming to keep the Prussian company too? The more people the less lonely he be being." A vicious grin stretched across Ivan's face, his lavender eyes sparkling brilliantly with a sadistic glee. "You should be coming to see the _brotherland. _He is tired of the Spaniard's and the Brit's nagging. "He said in a warm voice that was strikingly out of place, given the situation. Before Feliciano could protest, he felt cold, strong arms scoop him up into a crushing, restraining embrace against a thick chest. Terrified eyes flicked up to the window, locking with Elizabeta's as the slender framed Italian was carried through the door. He had ust enough time to mouth the words, 'Get help!" before he was taken out of the bathroom, away from Elizabeta's and Lovino's dumbstruck line of sight.

"Fratel-" Lovino struggled furiously against the achingly cold hand that was pressed firmly against his mouth.

"_Shut up!_ Do you want Ivan to come get us too? Feliciano said to get help. That's what we are going to do. Now keep _quiet!_" Elizabeta snapped in a hushed voice, terror for Feliciano and fury that they had agreed to let the fragile Italian go first battling in her heart.

"Who do you propose we ask then? Kiku is already serving as a distraction. Who else would help? The others don't particularly care for breaking rules." Lovino hissed against her hand, his fear for his little brother coming off as anger and hostility.

Elizabeta stared in dismay, the realization of the truth of his words causing a sickening feeling to churn in her stomach. A soft sigh bubbled from her lips and she hung her head. "We have to go in and get them ourselves then... We don't have much of a choice."

"That is suicide! Give... Give us two days to prepare, ok? I don't exactly have what I need to openly attack Ivan" Lovino sounded edgy and he glanced around, just waiting for Ivan to appear. _We might have one other person... One other person..._

Elizabeta looked at Lovino with an incredulous expression. "You're kidding right? Two days? Who knows what Ivan will do to them by then! Tomorrow. I'm going in tomorrow evening whether you are there or not! Go _prepare_ but you had better be back tomorrow." She threatened, eyes murderous as she held up her frying pan to the older Italian.

"I will be here." Lovino promised, backing away slowly with wary eyes. _Hopefully with help... Fratello I'm sorry... _He thought with one last glance at Elizabeta before he turned around and left to find help, moving faster than usual, all the while thinking how stupid he was about to be.

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**Well this chapter was rather short. I'll upload a new one soon! Reviews would be awesome and to the "anon" (Even though I know who you are ;) ) Danke! Liebe dich auch 3**


	6. Chapter 6

**New chapter! I know I just posted one... but it was short so here's another one! **

**Warnings: Not a whole lot. Mild violence**

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Ludwig was laying on his bed, trying hard not to focus on the crushing loneliness that weighed down his heart and thoughts. The only thing that kept him alive, that kept him trying to live and carry on, was Feliciano's promise. His Italian had said he would be back in a few days. He should be able to be alright for that long. He had never been this alone though. Even when he had been separated from his brother initially, he had had Elizabeta, but she was in trouble with trying to secede from Soviet control. It was funny, he could have sworn she had already done that, but then he really hadn't paid much attention when she had talked to him. Physically he felt better each day, the knowledge his Italian still loved him strengthening his drive to live, but one days like today, where he dwelt on just how alone he was in the world, he would slip back into his crushing, hopeless depression.

Berlitz, his German Shepard, rested his blocky head on the edge of Ludwig's navy colored sheets. Clear brown eyes peered up at Ludwig sadly, a soft whimper sounding, much too high for such a large dog. He rested a paw on Ludwig's hand as if he knew how his master felt and was saying, "I'm here!"

With a slight smile, Ludwig rubbed the dog's head. "Don't look so sad. I'll be alright... For now, let's go outside to clear my head." He said, smiling a bit more when the dog lifted his head, perked his ears and wagged his tail happily, all a reaction to the word "Outside". Slowly, Ludwig sat up and rested his feet on the floor. With a deep breath, he got up, pleased when the majority of his pain turned out to just be left over aches. "Come, Berlitz." He commanded, happy to have something to do.

Berlitz raced down the stairs and to the back door, tail wagging rapidly. His entire body energy screamed "Play!" He began to pace as Ludwig slowly made his way down the stairs, impatient. With a deep bark he voiced his displeasure.

"I'm coming. Mein Gott dog... You're worse than a hungry Italian." Ludwig grumbled, rolling his paler than usual blue eyes with good natured humor. He had just barely gotten to the foot of the stairs when a rapid knock came from the door. The annoying, repetitious sound caused Berlitz to race from the back door to the front door with a deep, furious bark rising up in his throat to echo dangerously throughout the house. "Schweigen!" Ludwig commanded, heading to the door with guarded eyes. The German Shepard immediately fell silent and sat at Ludwig's feet. "Gut." He commented, patting Berlitz's head before opening the door. "What do you want?" He asked, half hostile half curious and completely incredulous at who he saw outside his house.

"It's Feliciano! Ivan captured him, Iggy and the tomato bastard when we were trying to bust out the albino potato bastard. You have to help me and Elizabeta save them!" An antsy Lovino said, sounding uncharacteristically desperate. "Por favore potato bastard."

Ludwig disappeared in the house for a few moments, leaving Lovino to pace rapidly back and forth on the front porch. The weakened blonde nation raced up the stairs as fast as his stiff, aching body would allow, and down the hall into his room. With calm eyes, he walked to the dresser in the corner and pulled out his military green cargo pants and pulled on a clean black tank top before he grabbed his gun and made his way back down the hall, down the stairs and to the front door once more.

"Gekommen!" He commanded, anger and determination rolling off him in waves. For the frst time since the wall was constructed, his blue eyes filled with emotion. "Lead the way Lovino" His voice was full of authority and strength, and even though his body ached, he stood tall and proud. He still wasn't the same Ludwig from before the war, as he was tangibly darker and, if it was possible, more intimidating than before, but he was close to that honorable nation as he had been before the rise of Hitler. _No one messes with mein bruder, or mein Italien and gets away with it._ He vowed to himself silently as Lovino began to make his way to his car to head back to Ivan's house. _I am coming_.

Antonio held Arthur close to him, laying on the floor with the Brit tight against his chest. Both were having issues sleeping, but neither wanted to break the silence in the room. Soft lips brushed against Antonio's clavicle, causing the man to jump slightly in which Arthur laughed softly, only to jump in turn when a cry of terror echoed around the room from where Feliciano was sleeping.

"N-No! No No! Ludwig! Luddy save me! Luddy por favore! Por favore!" Feliciano cried out in his sleep, tossing and turning. Ivan almost had him. He could feel the icy hands roaming across his chest. "No! Luddy!" He screamed again, tears leaking from his closed eyes. Ivan. Ivan was everywhere. Everywhere! Trying to take him away. Trying to do such horrible things. Feliciano's heart beat too fast in his chest, pumped full of fear driven adrenaline.

Arthur sat up and looked over at Feliciano in the gloom, eyes worried. "Antonio... should we wake him, love" He whispered softly, meeting Antonio's green eyes with his own, both mirror images of concern. When they both turned to look at the struggling Italian though, Gilbert had wrapped a bruised appendage around Feliciano's scrawny waist and pulled him closer, comforting the terrified mind with his warmth. A silver haired head lifted off the bed and glanced over at Arthur and Antonio, grief stricken and for once, a little fearful before he laid back down.

"Dios mio... How are we going to get out of this one Arthur? I think... We might be stuck here for a while.  
Antonio murmured, pulling Arthur back down against his chest and pressing his nose against the Brit's neck, drinking in his scent and letting it comfort him. If the two found it hard to sleep before, it was nothing compared to the hopeless prospect of sleep now.

"You're telling me this entire plan was your idea? That's awesome! Almost as awesome as the awesome me! Kesese. Too bad it didn't work like you had planned though, ja?" Gilbert rasped, impressed at the sudden defiant spark that had spurred Feliciano to action. "Not gonna lie squirt, I didn't know you had it in you. You suppose Liza and Lovino will be able to get help?"

Feliciano shrugged, finding it hard not to stare at the Prussian's bruised, mangled skin. The man's entire chest was exposed, and the pigmentless skin was almost completely black and blue and purple. Only a couple fist sized patches remained unscathed. The worst part, in Feliciano's mind, wasn't the ghastly patchwork of colors crisscrossing across the entirety of his torso and back, but instead it was the deep spider webbing gash that stretch over the silver haired man's right temple. The bottom edge of the temporal bone, his cheek bone and the right edge of his optic canal all had been broken by a vicious blow, leaving the entire right side of the man's face was a dark, sickly black color. Whenever the injury was brought up though, Gilbert shut down and refused to answer any questions about it. The small Italian tore his eyes away from Gilbert's injured, battered body with a shudder. "I don't know... Elizabeta may not even have understood what I tried to tell her. They may not get help at all..." The usually cheerful gleam in Feliciano's eyes was gone, leaving behind gloomy depression.

Gilbert winced noticeably as he moved to hug Feliciano, yelping loudly as he banged his ribs against the smaller man too hard. "Cheer up Feli. It... It could be worse... ja?" He panted, wrapping bruised and lacerated arms around his abused ribs, trying to hold himself together.

"Says the one who looks like the survived a bloody apocalypse." Arthur muttered, sitting in Antonio's lap on the floor. The bushy eyebrowed blonde leaned back against his Spaniard's chest, who in turn wrapped his arms around Arthur and rested a slightly prickly chin on his shoulder. "When does Ivan usually come down to bother you Gilbert?" He asked with anger thick in his voice

"Whenever he feels like it? He comes down whenever he feel the need to "break my spirit"." Gilbert rasped before breaking into a fit of harsh coughing, blood splattering the ground from the force of the coughs. It took him a few agonized moments to control the coughing, and when he finally was able to breathe and speak again without interruptions, his breath rattled loudly in his throat and chest. "Es tut mir leid..." He rasped, voice unable to be any louder than a whisper.

Everyone was looking at the Prussian in concern. Antonio and Arthur exchanged worried glances and Feliciano looked like he wanted to help, but he didn't have the first clue in how to. For a brief moment, it looked like Gilbert was going to make a joke to lighten the mood, but then all four sets of eyes shot to above them as an angry shout sounded from upstairs, followed by the crashing of some heavy object as it fell to the floor. Curiously, they all listened, trying to make out the angry words.

"V-Ve? That sounds like mio fratello!" Feliciano gasped, eyes widening in terror. "Lovino... Lovino be careful..." He hadn't realized he was trembling until black and blue arms had found their way around his frame once more.

"Feliciano... Lovino will be alright. He'll be ok..." He rasped, though deep in the back of his mind doubt raged freely. _Only Lovino? If it's only Lovino... He doesn't stand a chance._

Lovino and Elizabeta were twisting around Ivan, eyes flashing with fury. Eliza slammed her frying pan against the tall man's ribs with a ringing crack while Lovino wen to strike the Russian in the head with a crow bar. "Where is mio fratello and the other bastards, vodka bastard?" Lovion growled, yelping in fear as a lead pipe swung dangerously close to his head. One blow with that thing and he'd been unconscious. A nasty crack sounded again, followed by a sharp scream of pain on Elizabeta's part. He didn't know what Ivan had hit, but the way Elizabeta screamed, he was sure it had hurt.

Ivan brought his pipe up and sent it crashing down towards Lovino's head as he mused, but the lithe Italian moved dodging the blow. Before he could go to strike again, a frying pan smacked the back of his head, leaving him reeling. "Why can't you all just leave me alone? I was told to keep the Prussian, da?" He growled, staling until he could see clearly again by talking. Without warning he lashed out at Lovino again, hitting him in the shoulder with a nasty crack.

The older Italian brother dropped his crow bar with a curse and tried to move his arm, but the blow had popped the joint out of socket. He howled in pain and rage as he dropped to the floor to avoid another blow and rolled away to safety. "Eliza, watch out!" He called as Ivan turned almost inhumanly fast in his efforts to strike Elizabeta.

The Hungarian woman ducked and slammed the handle of her pan up under his sternum, grinning in satisfaction as Ivan backed up with a huff, a cold hand moving to press against the throbbing spot. Elizabeta wasn't giving the man the chance to escape her though and she sprang forward after him, smacking him upside the head with her frying pan again. "You had permission to imprison Gilbert! Not Arthur. Not Antonio. Not Feliciano." She growled, sounding dangerous.

Ivan grinned despite himself. "Kolkolkol! We will be seeing about that." He said with a short bark of chilling laughter. He ignored the trickle of blood that was running down his neck, not even bothering to wipe it off before he spun and lashed out at Elizabeta without warning, smashing his pipe against her ribs. His grin widened at her gasp of pain and he raised his pipe to strike again, only to find a heavy weight crash into him and latch onto his back.

When Ivan had managed to land a blow on the whirlwind of fury that was Elizabeta, he had sprung to his feet and launched himself onto Ivan's back, wrapping his working arm tightly around the large, cold man's neck. "You can't win Ivan! Give them to us!" He growled, securing himself further by wrapping his legs around the Russian's waist and tightening his one armed choke hold.

"Nyet!" Ivan managed to get out. Since when had Italians had physical strength? His lavender eyes burned furiously as he slammed Lovino back against the wall, trying to get him to let go. He was so busy trying to get the Italian off of him so he could properly breathe and engage in the fight once more, that he didn't see the figure in the shadows of the house as it headed towards the door to the basement.

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**Such a terrible place to end a chapter! The next one thing's get interesting~ Reviews are awesome! Thank you to all the people coming back to read each new chapter!**


	7. Chapter 7

**New chapter! Weeeew! :D**

**Warnings: Action. Fighting and such and... yea**

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"I wish I knew what was going on..." Feliciano said for the tenth time in the past few minutes. He was terrified, worried and antsy as he paced back and forth in front of Gilbert's bed. "What if Ivan hurts Lovi or Eliza?" He asked, causing both Arthur and Antonio to roll their eyes.

"For the love of the queen..." Arthur muttered, shooting an annoyed glance at the rambling Italian. "Feliciano, we can't get up there to see. If we could, we would, but the door is locked, so we can't. Stop asking!" Arthur said, sitting in Antonio's lap once more, similar to how he had the day before.

Gilbert shot an incredulous glare at Arthur, willing the Brit to shut up. "Don't worry too much Feli. Eliza can handle herself, she beat me and Antonio up enough when we were younger... And Lovion stands up to Ludwig for you so... Together they should be just fine." Gilbert assured with his strange, rasping voice as he slowly sat up on the bed. To his dismay, blood stained the pillow he had been resting on. Pale fingers gently probed his temple and came away bleeding, he must have done something to it while he was sleeping.

"How do you know though Gilbert?" Feliciano cried desperately, pausing his rapid pacing to look back at the albino nation with pleading eyes.

"I ju-" Gilbert broke off with a frown, stiffening despite the shriek of is aching muscles. He listened for a brief moment before straightening up further and glaring at the bottom few stairs. "Somebody is coming. Feliciano, get away from the stairs!" He growled, the sound warped with the rattle in his chest.

Feliciano did as he was commanded, scrambling back away from the stairs with wide eyes. He glanced down at Arthur and Antonio, relieved to see Arthur getting up off of Antonio's lap to stand and face the stairs. The Spaniard was the last to get to his feet, but when he did he stalked to stand in front of the entire group, protective and ready to face whatever came down the stairs to face them. He moved to block the stairway and stared up defiantly at whoever was coming down the stairs, only to freeze, face a mixture of shock and awe.

Ludwig was making his way down the stairs, glancing every few moments behind him. When he met Antonio's eyes, his commanding power washed over the Spaniard and he continued down the stairs with a confident stride, his pain and exhaustion not showing in the slightest. Blue eyes scanned over Antonio, trying to see past him, though the Spaniard blocked his view into the room below.

Still frozen, Antonio could feel the relieved grin spread across his face as the man drew closer. This was an impossibility. How had the German crossed the wall? He remembered Feliciano's screams of terror last night as he dreamed, watching helplessly with Arthur as they both saw how badly Feliciano had wanted this man to come and save them. Neither of them had dreamed that Ludwig would come. "L-Ludwig..." Antonio whispered, hanging his head in a sudden swell of shame. 'We were w-"

"Who is it Antonio? None of us can see through you!" Arthur said in nervous exasperation. He pushed past Antonio only to stop dead in his tracks. "Bloody hell... Feliciano... Come here." He said softly, eyes filling with hope and happiness.

Feliciano squeaked in fearful surprise. "Ve~? W-Why? Who is it? Is it mio fratello? Did Ivan hurt him? Who is it Iggy?" He rambled, anxiety rising in his voice with each question. Hesitantly he made his way to the stair way. "If Ivan hurt him I'm going to... to... _Ludwig!_" The Italian cried, flinging himself at the German man and hugging him fiercely. Tears of both pent up stress and intense relief streamed down his tanned cheeks. He immediately released Ludwig though when he heard him let out a near silent gasp of pain. "I-I'm sorry L-Luddy!" He mumbled around a choked sob. "I just m-missed you... I knew you'd s-save us.." His voice was soft and thick with emotion.

Ludwig reacted by pulling Feliciano into a hug once more, ignoring the aches that screamed at him. "Don't be sorry... And bitte... Don't let go." He whispered softly, heart soaring as he held Feliciano to him. His view of the rest of the room was still blocked to know his brother was there as well, but at the moment, seeing Feliciano was enough to quell hs raging worry for the briefest of moments.

Gilbert couldn't find his voice. _Is it really him? Is it really mein kleiner bruderchen?_ He thought to himself over and over again. When no one made an effort to move from the stairwell he moved slowly to get to his feet, agony piercing through every fiber of his being. By the time he was supporting his own weight, standing completely unaided by the bed frame, he was drenched in an icy sweat. Blood trickled out of his mouth and down the side of his face, and his breathing was labored more than usual, rattling harshly in his chest. Despite everything, he lurched towards the others, head swimming nauseatingly. He made it half way across the room before his legs gave out underneath him and the ground came up to meet his face, angrily pressing against the damaged right side of his face. His agonized cry echoed around the room before cutting off with gurgled coughing that left him curled around himself, clutching at his ribs to try to keep them inside his body.

Hearing the cry, voice familiar even in the high pitched sound of pain, Ludwig let go of Feliciano and pushed past Arthur and Antonio so he could rush to the fallen form of his brother. Seeing his battered form sprawled on the ground, Ludwig sunk to his knees. "G-Gil... Oh Gott..." He whispered, gently lifting his older brother up in his arms and hugging him gingerly. "What happened to you bruderlein..." He questioned in a whisper, sickened by how brutal of a beating Gilbert had to have had endured to be this bruised and broken.

"Luddy!" Gilbert rasped, his voice both softer and harsher than a whisper. "I-Ivan happened." He tried to growl. His left eye locked on his brother, the right too swollen shut to fix on his little brother's face. "He wants Prussia..."

Ludwig's sudden burst of anger was terrible, intense. His blue eyes darkened and his teeth clenched together, leaving him to look like positively demonic as he held his fragile brother. "I will destroy him for what he's done to you" He growled, voice harsh and dark, matching his presence. _Watch your _ficken_ back soviet cunt. I will destroy your nation and kill you. You'll be forced to watch your miserable Russian die, one by pathetic, mewling one, and I'll be there, laughing at your suffering and pitiful at trying to rebuild the pieces. You'll regret ever having laid a cold, careless hand on mei-_*His dark, threatening thoughts, more Nazi like than honorable German, were cut off by light hand on his shoulder and a trembling one on his face as both Feliciano and Gilbert tried to pull him back from the brink of his darkening demeanor.

"Por favore mi amour... I don't want to lose you to your darkness again." He whispered in a trembling, terrified voice. His warm brow eyes were chilled with fear as he looked upon Ludwig, sensing his inner turmoil. He could see Ludwig slipping away from him back into the evil darkness.

"Bruder... Pull yourself together... That side of you has no place here." Gilbert rasped firmly, the trembling hand he had lifted to his little brother's cheek was trying to reassure him. "I am alright. Beat up, but alright. There is no need for that." He whispered softly, shifting painful to wrap lacerated, bruised arms around Ludwig's trembling form.

The evil, burning hatred dissipated instantaneously at both his brother and his Italian's pleas. A violent shudder ran through Ludwig's form and he closed his eyes, subconsciously holding his brother tighter. "Let's get you guys out of here... I don't know how much longer Elizabeta and Lovino can hold the communist bas-" He stopped when Feliciano winced at the harshness that had crept into his voice. "Can hold back Ivan." He corrected himself with a sigh. "Gilbert... can you walk with help?" He asked, not wanting to let one of the others carry him if he could help it, seeing as he knew he couldn't do it himself. Despite his apparent strength, it was a facade, hiding the physical weakness he still possessed.

"Bruder..." Gilbert regarded Ludwig with concerned eyes, not having missed the darkness that still peeked through the familiar bright blue eyes of his little brother. "I... I can try to walk with help... but we'll have to go slow... Es tut mir leid bruderchen." He whispered softly.

"Idiot. We don't care how slow we have to go. Don't you think we expected this to be difficult when Feliciano first explained this daft plan?" Arthur scoffed, speaking up for the first time since Ludwig had found his brother. If he was bothered by the younger German's inner struggles, he didn't show it, instead he just took Antonio's hand and waited beside the stairs.

"Gil, we want to to come with us... so we'll stay at your pace, no worries si?" Feliciano said, hand still on Ludwig's shoulder.

Ludwig nodded, further reassuring his brother. "Ja. We will stay with you bruder. I'll make sure you all get out of here... Arthur. Feli. You two need to help Gilbert get up the stairs and out of the house. Go through the back door and head to the trees. You'll find my car and Lovino's. Get inside one of them and wait for the rest of us. Soviet troops are swarming around the wall by now I'm sure. When we go up the stairs, I will take the lead, Antonio take the rear. Antonio and I will wait to make sure you got out safely before we go to help Elizabeta and Lovino finish off Ivan. Keep in mind, when Elizabeta, Lovino, Antonio and I get to you, you all better be ready to move. Ivan will send soldiers after us." Ludwig commanded, voice full of authority as he stood up and helped Gilbert to his feet.

"This is all great, but if you plan on them following us to the wall, what makes you think they won't cross over it? Don't you think Ivan will order them to follow us, even over the wall?" Arthur said, hating to have to be the voice of reason against the otherwise solid sounding plan.

"They won't dare to cross. Not with what is left of my troops and the resitienza of South Italy waiting for them on the other side. We cross into West Germany and we're safe for a while... No nation is up for another all out war already, and Ivan is too worried about Alfred right now anyway. He won't want to risk going to war against us and have Alfred strike with nuclear missiles." _Even if it does get to the point of another war, I'll just go to Ivan and trade my imprisonment for everyone else's safety. If it comes down to it, he can have Germany... These nations won't suffer anymore because of me._

Everyone fell into a tense silence at the sound of a crash and a distinctly female cry of pain. "Elizabeta!" Gilbert growled, taking a couple lurching steps towards the stairs before he stumbled. He would have fallen completely to the ground had Ludwig not caught him.

"Gott verdammt bruder!"Ludwig barked, tone angry to cover up his anxiety and concern at how weak his brother was. "You aren't in any shape to be running upstairs and rescuing anyone!"

Gilbert glared furiously at his brother, positively corybantic "If we would go already I wouldn't have to try!" He snarled, his terror for the unknown of what could be happening to Elizabeta making him reckless as he snapped at his brother. "I'm tired of just standing h-" He broke off into another coughing fit, blood splattering on the ground and Ludwig as he leaned up against his little doubled over in pain and from the fierce coughs, only Ludwig's strong hands keeping him upright. It took an agonizing amount of time for the coughs to finally recede, and once the did he was left a trembling mess, gasping for precious oxygen that he just couldn't seem to get enough of in his lungs. "Let's just go." He rasped, voice barely audible.

Ludwig watched his brother carefully. Terror shown brightly in his cerulean eyes, making him look very much like he did as a child when he was alone, or when it stormed. Gilbert was supposed to be someone who was strong, a constant in his ever changing life, and seeing him so fragile, so weak, scared Ludwig worse than any amount of death or separation could. The terror must have registered on his face, or maybe it was just because Gilbert was accustomed to looking for it, because no sooner did the fear grip Ludwig, choking and vice like, when Gilbert's arms encircle his little brother. Crimson eyes sparked with fury and crushing grief at Ludwig's fear. He was supposed to be able to reassure Ludwig, not make him sick with worry and frozen with fear! "Lud... Ich verspreche, dass ich fein bruderchen." He whispered in his rasping voice, before letting go. Ludwig seemed to calm and he nodded to Arthur and Feliciano, who both wrapped one of Gilbert's arms around their necks. Without another word Ludwig started up the stairs, followed closely by the trio and then Antonio.

The scene at the top of the stairs wasn't pretty. Elizabeta was unconscious, having crumpled to the ground with a blow to the head that left and eerily similar injury on his left temple that blossomed across Gilbert's right. Her beautiful brunette hair was caked with blood and her frying pan was still clutched in a gore splattered hand. "Arthur. Grab Elizabeta and get out of here!" Ludwig commanded, doing his best to ignore the gasp of indignant fury and pain that came from behind him. Gilbert's gasp. He pried the frying pan from her hand and motioned for Antonio to follow him into the house.

"What about your bloody brother?" Arthur snapped, stress and tension fraying his nerves and making him short tempered. "I can't help them both Ludwig!"

"I can walk with just Feliciano's help. Get Elizabeta out of here." Gilbert growled, determined. Adrenaline, his protective nature, and the sight of his Eliza needing help lent him strength as he let go of Arthur, satisfied when he didn't even really need Feliciano's help. Of course, he was only standing...

Arthur muttered a few choice curses under his breath, and his emerald eyes widened, but he caught sight of Antonio's bright, almost cheery grin and he his Spaniard's confidence soothed him. He dashed over to the fallen form of Elizabeta, scooped her up in his arms, bridal style, and sprinted after Gilbert and Feliciano as they headed out the back door. _Be careful Antonio... Please, love..._

"Let's find us a Russian amigo" Antonio said, lazy grin in place. He had found his ax resting beside the door to the basement, and now gripped it confidently in his hands. Ivan would be hard pressed to get past him. Emerald eyes drifted around the room, looking for both Ivan and Lovino, though they locked with blue eyes when a loud crash sounded from above them. Turning in the same instant, they sprinted up the stairs, Ludwig with both his gun and Elizabeta's frying pan, and Antonio with his ax. They made their way down the hallway, only to pause for a split second to take in the scene before them.

Lovino and Ivan were both bleeding heavily, Lovino from a wicked looking shoulder wound that left the bone exposed, and Ivan from a mostly hidden gash that sunk deep into his side, leaving blood to drizzle down his side and leg in sheets. Both men fought against each other furiously, lead pipe against crow bar as the two continued the battle. Seeing to disposed of knives, each slick with blood, it wasn't hard to imagine where the wounds had come from. Lovino's crow bar connected with the already damaged side of Ivan, causing the much bigger man to growl out in pain. He retaliated with a mighty swing as his pipe smacked against Lovino's back.

Before another round of blows could be exchanged, Ludwig had his gun pointed at the lead pipe in Ivan's hand. He fired it with a ringing 'bang' and knocked the brutal instrument from his hand. He strode into the room confidently as the two men jumped back, momentarily stunned by the sudden noise. "Enough!" He commanded, every inch of him radiating authority. He allowed a ghost of a smile to cross his lips when Antonio shot out from behind him and had the injured Russian man slammed back against a wall, ax blade forcefully pressed against his neck.

"You've been busy amigo..." Antonio purred, grin still fixed on his face as he spoke in a conversational tone. He pressed his ax against the soft flesh of Ivan's neck hard enough to draw blood as the man struggled. "I wouldn't do that... You kept mio Arturo captive... I will kill you."

Lovino had the same idea apparently. He glared furiously up at Ludwig and pointed his crow bar at Ivan. "Potato bastard! Why shouldn't I smash his head in? Why shouldn't Antonio chop him to pieces?" The Italian snarled, pacing back and forth in front of Ludwig.

"For what? The joy of killing? We have what we want... so far. Don't you think I am pissed at him too? He kidnapped your bruder, but he tortured mine." Ludiwg's voice was cold, but it swelled with power and left no room for questioning. His gaze shifted to fix on Ivan, and he regarded the man coldly as he struggled. "Ivan. You are going to let us go. All of us. Gilbert, Arthur, Feliciano... All of us, or there will be war. I think you'll find that more people will side with me when we expose your ways in dealing with mein bruder. I will leave you, and more importantly Russia, in peace and forget about this entire event, but you will let us go and not follow us, or cause any of us trouble, or I will want to know why."

Ivan's amethyst eyes flashed with unrequited, corybantic rage. He shoved at Antonio's chest, only to be forced back by the Spaniard. "Who are you to be telling me what to do, da? Why should I be letting you go? You broke the rules, da?" He said with a vicious smile on his face. "Tell you what Ludwig. If you be staying here, my soviets will be staying away from everyone else.

Antonio's grin fell from his face in a heart beat and he turned his head to try to lock eyes with Ludwig, finding the action exceedingly difficult as he continued to hold Ivan against the wall. "Don't do it amigo... Ludwig... Don't do it. Feliciano did all of this for you. Don't stay with this R-" He was cut off when Ludwig nodded in agreement, blue eyes darkening briefly with pain. "Fine... Do what you want Ivan. Keep me here, but I expect you to keep your word." The proud nation growled, bowing his head in acceptance.

"Damn potato bastard! Think what this is going to do to mi fratello! You idiota! Why would you give yourself over to him eh? What is wrong with you? This is a going to kill Felicano! Damn bastard I should have known you'd be doing a something like this!" Lovino's mouth motored away, almost as fast as Feliciano when he panicked. The German couldn't just give up like that after all of this!

Ivan grinned, child like and innocent, yet full of sadism and insanity at the same time. He pushed passed Antonio and took a firm hold of Ludwig's wrist as he lead him to the center of the room. It wasn't until then did Antonio or Ludwig realize the room they had walked into was only what could be described as a modern torture chamber. Thick iron chain hung in lazy arcs from the ceiling, knives, flogging whips, and things in jars lined the walls. Ludwig's stomach churned in fearful apprehension as metal cuffs were latched around his wrists, chaining him to the ceiling. A large metal band was cuffed around his torso, making it impossible to stand up straight. Before Antonio and Lovino's eyes, Ludwig was detained without any resistance and his jacket was cut off of him, almost as an afterthought, leaving him in his black tank top, though soon that garment followed suit.

Once he had successfully restrained his German prisoner, Ivan lead Antonio and Lovino from the room, pleased they hadn't tried to come to Ludwig's aid. "Stop pretending you care about him. He bombed Britain, remember Tonio? And... He's been with your brother for a while now too, Lovino... It'll be safer for Feli to be free of him, da? You can be stopping your pretending now, he can't be seeing you now."

Lovino glared up at Ivan, hate shining in his eyes. "Shut up, vodka bastard! He isn't a damned, sick, cruel, twisted bastard like you! If he hadn't come in when he did, I would ha-"

"Enough, Lovino... He isn't worth it amigo. Insulting him won't free Ludwig. Just be glad we are allowed to leave... I'm sure the German knows what he's getting himself into." Antonio sighed, sounding defeated. He didn't like leaving Ludwig behind any more than Lovino did, but they weren't going to change anything by fighting against Ivan now. He headed out the door, all but dragging Lovino behind him.

"Good bye Antonio. Good bye Lovino. I am glad you dropped by, Kolkolkol." Ivan called after them with a victorious grin. Antonio and Lovino could feel Ivans eyes trailing them even after they disappeared into the trees.

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**Well that was fun... What is going to happen to Ludwig though? D: Next chapter. Don't worry~ Reviews are awesome!**


	8. Chapter 8

**New chapter! It's short and full of conversation.**

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"What the hell am I going to tell mi fratello?" Lovino mumbled, already feeling sick to his stomach. He could already picture the pain on Feliciano's face in his mind. "He put all of us through that for the damned potato bastard... Only for the idiota to agree to stay with Ivan. We could have fought our way out. We could have made it out without him having to stay there. We could have-"

"Lovino! _Enough!_" Antonio said firmly. "Ludwig knew what he was doing, si? Just think for a second. So we fight our way out. Think what would have happened. This is Ivan we're talking about. He doesn't like to lose. Don't you think he'd go to Alfred? Find a way to twist the story until we all looked like bad guys? Not only would Ludwig and Gilbert be punished, but tu hermanito, me, you, Elizabeta, Arthur, even Kiku would be as well. Something tells me that wouldn't go over well with the Germans. So then they'd defend each other, us as well because they'll feel like they owe us all... That's just how Ludwig and Gilbert work. Ivan would get Alfred to declare war on them... Maybe not all of us, but them for sure. That would cause Ludwig and Gilbert to force their people into action. Now I don't know about you, but Arthur and I both told Gilbert and Ludwig if this mess comes to a war that we'd fight alongside them. I'm sure Feliciano and Elizabeta would too... So then-"

"Alright. _Alright!_ I get it Antonio...I get it. It would have come down to a war that no one is really ready to fight..." Lovino grumbled as they pushed into the clearing with the cars and the rest of the group.

Feliciano leapt to his feet and flew at his brother, hugging him happily. "Fratello! You're ok!I was so worried! I thought Ivan had gotten you and when we saw Elizabeta I thought for sure you were in trouble, but Luddy said-" The rambling Italian broke off and looked around curiously, expecting his German to step into the clearing beside Antonio and Lovino. "Luddy!" When he didn't see the man he frowned, a spark of fear and confusion flashing in his eyes. "L-Luddy? Where is he?" He asked. "I have to tell him how brave I was getting Gilbert here! I stayed at Gil's pace and didn't even try to run away! Where is he?" He asked again, growing increasingly panicked and confused with each word.

Suddenly, Gilbert had barreled into Antonio, knocking him over and sitting on top of him, his knife was drawn and pressed harshly against the Spaniard's throat. How the brutalized albino had managed to move at all on his own, not mentioning the ferocity and speed in which he had moved, no one knew. "_Ficken arschloch!_ You didn't! Gott verdammt tell me you didn't!" He snarled, voice holding tangible malice despite the grating harshness in the tone. "_Arschloch!_" Gilbert wanted to cry and beat the hell out of his best friend all in the same moment. _Nein... Nein nein nein... Luddy you better come through those ficken trees... bitte... bitte bruder..._

Feliciano squeaked, brown eyes flying wide open. "G-Gil? Ve~ Gilbert what's wrong? What did antonio do?" He asked in a shaken voice as Arthur swept past him and pulled the furious Prussian from his Spaniard. With an exasperated huff, Arthur pinned Gilbert against a tree, at this point not caring how injured the man was.

"Bloody git! Stay off of him!" He threatened before dropping him. Worry clouded his eyes as he made his way to Antonio's side and helped him up. He didn't speak again until he had checked the man over and was satisfied he hadn't been injured by the surprise attack. "Let them talk before bloody jumping to conclusions, you cunt! Killing each other won't help anyone!"

Feliciano turned back to his brother in confusion. "Fratello... I don't understand. Where is Luddy? Why is Gil mad at Antonio? I don't _understand!_" He cried, heart fluttering in his chest like a bird desperate for escape.

Lovino ducked his head, not wanting to have to see his brother's pain. "Feli... Ludwig... He..." The older Italian blew all the air out of his lungs noisily and ran his hand through his hair. "Ludwig stayed behind... To... To keep Ivan from attacking any of us." He said, voice barely more than an agonized whisper. He hated hurting Feliciano., and as he glanced up at Feliciano, that was all that registered on his face.

Everyone's eyes turned to Feliciano, even Gilbert's. At first Feliciano just stood there, stunned, then after a few seconds a million emotions flashed across his face. Fear. Anger. Confusion. Gratitude. Grief. Guilt. After the initial shock wore off he screamed his little heart out, the high pitched, keening wail holding an unbearable amount of agony. His face crumpled into a mask of unimaginable pain as he sobbed uncontrollably, silently, too choked up to make a sound. He trembled so badly his legs gave out and he fell to the ground. No one dared to move toward him, afraid he would snap under the stress and pain.

Lovino could feel tears of his own prick his eyes as he watched his brother suffering, completely helpless to stop it. He wanted so badly to go up to him, hug him, tell him everything would be alright, but he didn't know that for sure.

Antonio had his arms wrapped around Arthur protectively, trying hard not to imagine what Feliciano was feeling. A shudder ran through him at the ghost of misery that washed through him when he tried to imagine how he'd feel if Arthur was ripped from him, and subconsciously he tightened his hold on his Englishman. He pressed his face against Arthur's neck, face burning with shame, when he thought how glad he was that it was Ludwig who had stayed behind and not Arthur.

Gilbert was in a similar state as Feliciano, quietly crying and trembling. He felt broken deep inside, unfixable, more so than he ever had under Ivan's captivity and abuse. He had just been reunited with his brother, and now they were apart once more, roles reversed. It was cruel, how close they had come to being together again, like it should be. His mind ran rampant with horrifying images of what Ivan would do to his poor kleiner bruder. At least when Ivan held I'm captive, he knew Ivan wouldn't risk doing anything that would permanently damage him. The Russian couldn't risk being caught. Somehow, he didn't feel Ivan would extend Ludwig the same courtesy. Not only that, but Gilbert had been in decent health before hand, Ludwig, most certainly, was not. _Bruderchen... Mein kleiner bruderchen... I will svae you_. He thought in despair.

Feliciano had curled in on himself in the snow, sobbing harder than ever before. His ribs hurt from the strength of his quaking sobs. No one had realized Elizabeta had regained consciousness until she was making her way to Feliciano's side and pulling the frail man into her arms, ignoring the nauseating pain in her skull. Slowly she rocked him back and forth and her green eyes met Gilbert's, questioning him without words.

"Ludwig..." He rasped, saying nothing more. Just saying his name explained everything Elizabeta needed to know anyway. The woman was silent for a long while more, just rocking Feliciano into oblivion, but after a long while she stopped and cleared her throat.

"This is what we do then..." She whispered softly ad Feliciano snored softly on her chest, crying even in his sleep. "A couple of us will call an emergency meeting with the Nordics, Alfred, Matthew... Only those who will listen to us before jumping to conclusions. We'll tell them everything the stupid wall has lead to from Germany's near collapse to our rescue mission. When Alfred starts an uproar about going against international agreement, we'll show them Gilbert. We'll remind him that the agreement was merely that Ivan would house Gilbert to keep an eye on him, not to beat him into submission and steal his nation. If all goes well, Alfred will agree to tearing the wall down and all of the nations present will aid us in getting Ludwig out of Ivan's... "care"." Elizabeta said, watching the others for reactions to her.

"What if it doesn't work?" Lovino asked quietly, glancing at the sleeping, restless form of his brother in Elizabeta's arms.

It was Arthur who answered, much to Elizabeta and Antonio's surprise. "Then we come up with a new plan and go from there. We won't just leave Ludwig there." He vowed, sounding determined as he leaned into Antonio.

"For now... let's all just go home. Antonio, Arthur... You two call for the world meeting. Set it for a month from today. Eliza, I would appreciate if you would come home with me to help me... and my awesome..." He hadded the last part as an after thought, trying to lighten the mood half heartedly. We'll need to take pictures of my current health state though... I;ll probably heal quite a bit in a month's time. Lovino... you and Feli are welcome to stay with me or go home..." Gilbert offered, sounding exhausted.

"Potato bastard! A month? Why wait so long?!" Lovino barked uneasily, glancing worriedly at his brother.

"Lovino... We all have to get home, formally draft the meeting papers, organize the exact time and date of the meeting, give the two weeks notice and be sure we have all the information completely and with out a doubt ready to go. A month is really pushing it." Elizabeta soothed gently, almost as worried for Gilbert as Lovino was for Feliciano, even though it was the albino that had suggested a month in the first place.

"I don't know if Feli can last that long... Ludwig too. Ivan already had him completely chained up and at his mercy..." Lovino protested, for once actually caring for the German, more for the sake of his brother than anything else.

Gilbert sighed and hung his head, having been worrying about the same thing. "Luddy will just have to hold on... They both will."

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**The next one is sad guys so... Brace yourselves. As always reviews are nice :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**So... This... I just... I don't even have words other than I'm sorry... **

**Warnings: Please read at the risk of your own feels... This scene is rather... intense to say the least.**

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Ludwig's muscles were cramped from the awkward position he was forced to stay in. So far, Ivan had yet to reappear, something he was grateful for, though he didn't dare think he'd get off that easy. Even though he was alone more now than ever before, the feeling of crushing loneliness and abandonment had lifted. He suspected it had something to do with all the nations that had tried to rescue his brother for him. He didn't have long to marvel at the realization as Ivan entered the room with a dark, sinister grin. Indignant cerulean eyes glared at the Russian, his entire frame radiating defiance and hostility at the sight of the cold hearted man wearing full SS uniform, identifiable as one of his own. Ludwig was so filled with rage at Ivan's mockery that he strained against his shackles trapping his wrists, fury and crushing grief alight in his blue eyes. "You have no right to mein uniform!" Came his snarl, echoing around the prison chamber and reverberating off the sinister walls.

"You be being such bad prisoner. Hold your tongue, da?" Ivan growled, lashing out with the crop in his hand. It struck the German harshly across his cheek, instantly swelling and leaving a dark red welt. "I should be killing you... A murderer deserves his own murder, da? It is good thing for you that it is no fun killing you off so easily... Or maybe not so good. Kol kol kol." His deep chuckle was unnerving and before Ludwig could stop it, a shudder ran down his spine. "We will be having fun." He said with a grin, lashing out at Ludwig's face again with the riding crop.

Ludwig glared at Ivan, but he held his tongue, knowing it wouldn't get him anywhere. _Arschloch! Ficking commie bastard! I agreed to stay, not to be tortured and beaten! _He thought furiously, struggling to keep his mouth shut as he strained against his shackles, wanting nothing more than to beat the smirk from the Russian man's face.

Ivan narrowed his eyes after a moment, regarding his German prisoner critically. "What is being with you Germans and your pride?" He snapped, exasperated. "It won't be mattering... I saw blood stains on your uniform... How any of them are being from murdered Italians?" He goaded, wanting to get a rise out of Ludwig as he inspected the sleeves of the foreign uniform and ran gloved fingers over the blood splotches he found there. "How are you supposing your Feliciano felt about the murdering of his people? You think it was hurting him?"

"Halt die _ficking_ klappe!" Ludwig snarled furiously, straining against his shackles again, the chains that looped down from the roof chattering and trembling with his terrible anger. "I will kill you!"

"Kol kol kol" Ivan chuckled darkly, pulling down a wicked looking, curved knife from the wall. The blade was steal, splattered with dried blood from prisoners before. It was a good half a meter long, curved back over the handle and razor sharp, deadly looking. The more Ludwig looked at it, the further his heart dropped in sickening dread. "You are looking nervous Luddy. We haven't even started!" Ivan said, voice dripping with sickly sweet malice as he ran the very tip of his blade down Ludwig's stomach, starting at the hollow of his throat and running down between his abdominal muscles, ending just above his waistline. The blade cut hungrily into Ludwig's flesh, cutting from him like butter and leaving a glistening line of scarlet to trail behind it. A hiss of pain escaped from the German's throat as the hot, sticky blood rolled down him to stain his waistband crimson.

"I have a plan for you, Luddy. One cut, for every one hundred thousand lives you are being responsible for dying. German,Soviet, Jew, American. Anyone." Ivan giggled, licking Ludwig's blood from his knife with a sadistic gleam in his eyes.

"Sounds like a plan, if you are intending on killing me. There were over sixty million casualties in that war." Ludwig spat vehemently. The long, shallow cut stung, though he had been through much worse.

"One down. Five hundred and ninety-nine more to go then." Ivan said with a dark giggle before slipping behind Ludwig with his knife and began to trace the planes of the German's back with the tip of his knife, digging into his skin a little deeper with each new cut he made, until he was pressing nearly twenty centimeters of the wicked blade into Ludwig. Blood quickly pooled around the chained up German, his back covered in the hot, crimson liquid.

The pain he felt wasn't nearly as intense as it had been when he had endured his whipping a few years prior, but that didn't mean it wasn't bad. It was more a creeping agony than a sudden, piercing one.. The pain was tolerable until the Russian moved back in front of him, continuing his torment but slicing up the planes and contours of his stomach and chest. He gritted his teeth against the pain, a low groan rising from deep inside him.

Ivan grinned in an innocent style at Ludwig's trembling and his pained noises that he clearly tried to hold back. "What is the matter? Is it hurting? Kol kol kol." He returned the knife affectionately to the wall and returned to his German prisoner, where he took out a bottle of vodka from his pocket and dumped the entire contents over Ludwig's blonde haired head.

The vodka seeped into Ludwig's wounds, liquid fire burning through the weeping lacerations that covered his upper body. He growled in agony, causing his Russian torturer to grin down at him. "It is burning, da?" Ivan giggled, though his dark smirk quickly turned into a sneer of contempt as the only response he received was a snarl. "You know what else burns?" He whispered, drawing close to Ludwig's ear and fishing something from his pocket.

Ludwig heard a soft click and suddenly his scream of unimaginable agony split the air as flames licked across the German's ravaged stomach. He screamed again, the pain doubling as the hungry tongues scorched through the vodka still on his skin and caressed his skin with starved, burning fingers. The pain was worse than anything he had ever felt before and he could stop the tears from falling down his cheeks. Defeated, and wanting nothing more than to get the tongues of fire off of his skin, he looked up at Ivan wit begging, pleading eyes. "Ivan! M-Mein Gott! Put it out! Bitte! _Bitte _put it out." He begged, straining hard enough against the shackles around his wrists that the cold metal bit into his wrists, cutting them open gleefully.

Ivan wore a sadistic grin and casually pulled a metal tipped whip from inside his borrowed jacket. "Nyet." He purred before unwinding it and striking Ludwig with all is strength across his stomach. Back. Face. Chest. All the while the flames cackled and consumed Ludwig's strong frame.

""Bitte!" He screamed, the sound reverberating around the room, echoing and mocking it's owner. He tried hard to hold back his screams of agony, but his already tattered control shattered as a new horror set in. The flames licked along his skin, burning, blistering, ravaging, but they also licked along the metal band around his stomach, heating it up until it turned a cherry red, the skin melting around the band, grotesque and torturous. "B-Bitte! Gott _BITTE!" _He half sobbed, half screamed, as he burned alive.

It wasn't until the band had heated up that Ivan moved to put out the fire, not wanting the German's skin to blacken. He pulled a chain the looped down from the wall and water, sweet, relieving water rained down on Ludwig's skin, sizzling in it's attempts to quench the flames. Steam mixed with smoke, blood and water with charred bits of flesh. The German was covered in patches of fire damaged skin, lacerations, abrasions, blisters and a sickening band of blistered, melted flesh, hidden still behind the slowly cooling metal band.

Ludwig hung by his wrists, unable to stand under his own power, his legs wouldn't support his broken body. The pain was too intense to block out and tears streamed down his face. "Arschloch..." He rasped, blue eyes glaring up at the Russian with all the defiance he could muster.

Ivan's booming laughter filled the room, dark and sinister. "You brought this on yourself, da? I didn't force you to stay Ludwig. You will be suffering for what you did to my Baltics and my Soviets. My Russians. Kol kol kol." He laughed again, dark and sinister. He produced a second bottle of vodka and doused the smoldering German with it, a dark sadism in his violet eyes. With a toothy grin, he clicked the lighter again and flame blazed across Ludwig's skin a second time.

Ludwig could feel another scream bubbling to his lips, splitting the smoke filled air. Flames licked across his skin a second time, burning off the vodka as quickly as it had the first time and catching his skin. His pants had been scorched the first time, blackening in places. His chest blistered, his stomach and back as well. The fire kissed every part of him, spreading it's damaging affect quickly. His lungs were filling with smoke and the room smelled of his molten flesh, similar to the stench of a Nazi death camp. Suddenly, it all made sense in Ludwig's mind. Each new torture Ivan presented him. "I know what you are doing!" Ludwig shouted agony and fury lacing through his words.

Ivan, surprisingly, put out the flames immediately and fixed his prisoner with curious, critical amethyst eyes. "Oh? And what is it that I am doing, _Fatherland?_" He asked with an amused smile, holding the whip loosely in one, black leather gloved hand, a silent reminder not to offend him.

Ludwig panted for a second, breath ragged and raspy as he fought back the pain that only intensified when the flames were quenched once more. "You... You are tormenting me. Torturing me... In all the same ways my soldiers had to the people they captured and imprisoned. All the ways they had to _your_ people. The people they murdered. The people my soldiers murdered." He said, growing more enraged with each statement.

Ivan grinned, looking impressed despite himself. He honestly hadn't expected the German to get his plans so quickly. "Very good Ludwig. Very good/" He chuckled. "That is what I be planning to do. You are needing to know how it feels to be fearing for your life every day, da? We should play lat- Oh." The Russian had turned away from Ludwig, heading towards the door, but he turned back around to look at the German with a bright grin. "I was forgetting... Kol kol kol." He laughed.

A chilling fear was gripping Ludwig's spine as Ivan turned around, fearing the bright happiness in Ivan's tone as he remembered some new torture. The broad shouldered Russian walked over to the wall and pulled down a black machine of some sort, small enough to fit in his hand. Ludwig thrashed weakly, knowing exactly what the small machine was. In most cases, a tattoo gun wasn't something that would frighten people, though somehow the unoffending machine with its thick needle and bottle of navy blue ink was the most sickening thing Ivan could have pulled out. With a dark smile, the flaxen haired, sadistic purple eyed man turned to Ludwig and drew closer to him.

Ludwig tried his hardest to shy away from the needled gun, a blister bursting and bleeding as it rubbed against the metal band, now cool, that was around his stomach. He didn't want to be branded like this. Marked as something impure, traitorous, tainted. He didn't want to be marked for things deep down he already knew about himself. He had the blood of millions staining him from the inside. A visual reminder of that was more painful than any amount of physical torment.

Ivan forced Ludwig's left arm to him, carelessly gouging the metal shackles into his already mutilated wrist. He shoved the needle into the skin on the German's forearm, drawing out a hiss of pain from him. A hiss of pain and beads of blood as he slowly tattooed the code, "Eh29659" In neat handwriting. "You know what that number is meaning, da?" Ivan's voice asked hi, sounding distant and echoing as Ludwig tried to block out the world. The man had his back to his prisoner as he returned the machine to the wall.

"I was one of the ones who had to develop the system... Ja. "EH" Erziehungshaftlinge. Used to label people who didn't do a good enough job in their labors... Why would you choose that for me?" Ludwig asked in a voice dead of any infliction. He didn't really care, but if he somehow appealed to the Russian, maybe he'd be more likely to leave him alone. He tried to keep his bright blue eyes from the dark blue number etched in his skin, but for some reason he couldn't look away.

"As a nation, you failed to protect your people. I will be reeducating you in how to be doing that, da?" Russia said, returning to Ludwig's side with yet another object in his hand. It was a rectangular piece of fabric, an industrial grey color. He produced a spool of black thread and a needle as he came to stand in front of Ludwig. Humming softly, Ivan fixed the fabric onto Ludwig's bare chest, making quick work of sewing the fabric to him.

Ludwig looked down at the patch and felt bile rise in his throat. On the offending cloth, an inverted pink triangle stared him in the face, a little black "G" in the center. The shape preceded the same number that had been etched into his arm. A small pink bar stretched across the top, above the triangle, labeling him as not only a gay man, but a repeating offender as well. Why Ivan had chosen to point this out, Ludwig didn't know. He was just about at his limits though. His head spun, his vision blurred in places, blacked out in others, and his heart beat sporadically, first fast and hard, then slow and faint. He let go, slumping completely, kept upright only by the shackles and the metal band. The last thing he was aware of by the time he finally passed out was a freezing cold tear rolling down his cheek.

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**So... How many of you hate me now? *raises my own hand* Ja... Me too. Thing's get better... Eventually. I'm sorry for that... I'd rather you guys not flame me for this chapter, but if you feel you must I understand. Until Chapter 10**


	10. Chapter 10

**Happy Valentines Day you guys! In honor of Valentines Day, here is a fluffy chapter to relieve the agonies of the previous chapter! Hope you all have a wonderful day!**

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_International News Report- Spain has announced an emergency world meeting that is to take place in two weeks. Both he and the Great Britain, the other nation aiding Spain in preparation for the rather sudden meeting, refure to release any information as to the subject matter of this meeting. As of now, the nations that have agreed to join together for this meeting are, America, Canada, Hungary, Austria, Both North and South Italy, Japan, China, Denmark, Norway, Poland and Turkey. No news on whether any of the Slavic nations or Germany will be attending, or if they have received the notice. Further news to come. _

Arthur lay curled up on Antonio's bed, pressed up against him. His tousled, blonde haired head rested on the Spaniard's chest. It was early in the morning, the sun was still sleeping, the stars out partying in it's place. It was such a peaceful time, for Arthur at least. He wasn't laying awake in the crimson, ebony and silver bed clothing like Antonio was.

Antonio just couldn't get his brain to shut off. Though he looked peaceful on the outside with his sun kissed arms wrapped around the Englishman that was snuggled up close against him, though his brilliant verdant eyes were closed, though his usually warm skin was cool to the touch, cooled from being on the brink of a deep sleep, his brain had him thinking about a million different things. _How is Feliciano doing? I haven't heard from either one of the Italians since we escaped from Ivan's house two weeks ago! Or what about Ludwig? I hope Ivan isn't killing. Dios Mio I hope we aren't making a mistake about taking so long to rescue him! I wonder if Gilbert and Elizabeta are healing up ok or are ready to murder each other... Or did the Hungarian woman go back home to Roderich? It's such a shame... She loves Gilbert so much... And Gilbert loves him back, yet she stays with that pompous Austrian. What is my Arturo dreaming about? I wonder... _He thought, everything rambling over and over in his head. Thoughts battled over what he'd pay attention to, crashing against each other. With a soft sigh he looked down at Arthur, gently moving his hair from his face affectionately.

The soft, gently touch woke Arthur up. He mumbled something quietly and lifted his head up off of Antonio's chest to look at him through bleary emerald eyes. "You're still awake... My love?" He mumbled, a yawn splitting up his slightly slurred words.

Antonio hugged Arthur to him tightly for a few seconds, feeling bad for waking up his Brit. "Lo siento... Did I wake you up, amor? He whispered quietly, looking apologetic. He didn't want Arthur to be plagued by his inability to fall asleep. Arthur shouldn't have to worry about how the Spanish man was sleeping, or rather lack there of.

"No love. It's alright! Don't feel bad..." Arthur paused t yawn again, politely covering his mouth with the back of his hand. Once the inability to speak was over, he snuggled closer to Antonio and pressed his face against his exotic scented neck. He kissed the tanned skin, lips quirking up in a smile as Antonio shivered slightly and a soft intake of breath, barely audible, made his chest rise. "Why are you still awake, love? Everything alright?" He whispered softly, nuzzling Antonio's neck lovingly.

A sigh escaped Antonio and he smiled weakly. "It's nothing to worry about, amor. Just can't get mio cerebro to shut up. If I'm not thinking of Lovi and his hermanito, I'm tinking of what Ivan is doing to Ludwig. If it isn't that, it's Gilbert and Elizabeta. If it isn't them, it's you." He sighed again, rubbing Arthur's back with a calloused hand. "I'm worried about the meeting on top of everything else. So everyone agrees to go to the meeting... We show them what Ivan did to Gilbert, and they agree to help rescue Ludwig. What's stopping Ivan from turning around and plunging the world into World War III?" Antonio rambled in a rush, looking worried and frazzled.

Arthur sighed and cuddled Antonio, keeping his face buried against his Spaniards neck. He kissed it again with a sigh and smiled a bit. "I think you are worrying over nothing, love. Ivan is a bit intimidating and sadistic, but he isn't unreasonable. He probably doesn't even recognize what he did to Gilbert, and what his is probably doing to Ludwig, is wrong. Ot's just the way he is. If we all talk to him, maybe he'll realize it... It's not exactly unheard of for nations to fight against each other as bitter adversaries, only to turn around to be friends. Who knows how many times that bloody frog and I been at each other's throat only to help each other later. Maybe Ivan and Ludwig will be able to put this behind them and be at peace with each other after this. Maybe Ivan will let Ludwig go after he feels he punished him enough." Arthur reassured soothingly, his eyes half closing as he laid beside the fretting Antonio.

Antonio smiled softly down at Arthur, his uncharacteristically negative thoughts fading away as his Brit' uncharacteristically optimistic words comforted him. He marveled momentarily how their roles were switched, if only briefly. Arthur the light while he was the darkness. It warmed his heart to know the man would give up his pessimism to to comfort him. "Arturo, amor, Your optimism is showing." He teased softly, deciding not to dwell over something he had no control over. A bright smile spread across his face as Arthur rolled his eyes, and just like that things switch back to how the normally were.

"For the love of the queen..." Arthur muttered, rolling his bright emerald eyes again. "I'm tired you bloody git. Leave me alone." He mumbled, a low groan rising from deep in his chest. He nuzzled Antonio's neck again, planning on heading back to sleep now that he knew Antonio was alright, until his Spaniard jerked away from him, rubbing at his neck.

"That tickled! Lo siento..." He said, laying back down and pulling Arthur close against him once more, only to jerk away again when Arthur nuzzled the same spot. He looked over at him in exasperation. "Stop that! That tickles!" He said again with a small frown.

Arthur smiled mischievously at Antonio and laid on top of him, trapping the Spaniard underneath him. With a light laugh he nuzzled Antonio's neck again, this time kissing up and down it, soft laughter rumbling through him the entire time.

"Dios m-mio! Iggy stop!"Antonio gasped, shivering slightly and sounding desperate. He wiggled under the Englishman unsuccessfully until finally he bent his neck awkwardly and bit down on Arthur's pale neck lightly, latching on and not letting go.

With a startled gasp, Arthur stopped his assault on Antonio's neck for a second, only to end up being rolled over and pinned down against the bed as Antonio switched their positions. In the end he was being straddled by a rather victorious and smug looking Spaniard. He couldn't suppress the pang of love and longing that washed through him when Antonio looked at him with that expression, with those eyes, that chocolate hair. He shook his head and glared up at Antonio, more playful than anything. "Get off me you git!"

With a laugh Antonio shook his head. "No... I don't think I will." He teased playfully, rolling his hips down against Arthur's and pressing his lips against his softly.

Arthur half squeak, half moaned into the kiss, taking completely off guard. "H-Hey! Not f-fair." He whimpered, face bright red. Why couldn't Antonio just play fair for once? Arthur would only tease him a little bit, and Antonio would react like this... Not that he particularly cared. _Anthony... If you wanted to- _His thought was cut off by a whimpering moan from his own throat as Antonio rolled his hips down into his again. "F-For... Ahhh A-Anthony... Antonio." He tried to complain, though his voice was soft and shaky, holding a bit of a desperate whine to it. It was completely unconvincing.

Antonio repeated the provocative motion, gradually pressing down harder each time. After a minute he leaned down over his trembling Englishman and captured his tea flavored lips in a passionate kiss. A warm chuckle flowed through him as Arthur responded with extreme enthusiasm, despite his claims of being tired and wanting Antonio to stop. He laughed again, stronger and more brightly when Arthur wrapped his legs around his hips, pressing up into him. "Enthusiastic, amor?" He teased softly, voice a bit raspy and breathy.

All the chuckling and laughing hurt Arthur's feelings and embarrassed him greatly. He felt rather ridiculous responding with as much excitement as he was. He untangled himself from around Antonio, fighting back his hurt. With a heart broken sound he rolled onto his side, breaking away from Antonio's kiss and grabbed a pillow, wrapping himself around it with a soft, shuddering whimper. "B-Bloody git." He whispered, afraid to raise his voice, knowing it would crack with pain. Holding back another soft whimper of depression he curled around the pillow even more, praying Antonio would just leave him alone, would just leave him to sleep.

Concerned, Antonio rolled away from Arthur and sat up as the suddenly devastated Brit tried to control his trembling and shut down the soft sobs rolling through him. "Amor? Arthur? What's wrong?" He asked, holding back his own wave of heart break from the blatant rejection to be sure his Arthur was alright. "Did I do something that hurt you, amor?" He asked, stressing further when the trembling, despondent man refused to look at him. "A-Arturo?" He whispered, heart shattering in his chest.

"Bloody wanker. Why did you laugh at me?" Arthur whispered into the pillow. He knew Antonio wouldn't be able to hear him. With a sigh he looked up at Antonio, keeping his hair covering his face. "I asked why you laughed at me." He said again, looking miserable.

Relief flooded Antonio's face and a soft chuckle rolled through him as he smiled at Arthur affectionately. "Is that all this is about?" He teased softly, not realizing just how upset Arthur was.

Arthur rolled away from him, hurt and angered. How could he still laugh at him after everything? "I don't need this... Call me later about the meeting plans, I'm going home." He mumbled, getting up off of Antonio's crimson covers and heading towards the door.

"No. No no no wait!"Hay Dios Mio , amor. Te amo. I love you!" Antonio said, realizing Arthur was seriously hurt by him. He scrambled off his bed and chased after him. "Amor... Iggy. Arturo wait! Would you let me explain?" He begged desperately.

"No." Arthur growled, walking stiffly down the stairs, heading for the front door. "You had your bloody chance to explain. Now I'm going home. Just leave me alone Antonio Fernandez Carriedo!"

Antonio flinched, his heart rupturing in his chest. Arthur was leaving? Arthur was... No! He couldn't leave! "Stop! I wasn't laughing at your reaction! I was laughing with bliss at the moment! I was laughing because of how absolutely happy you make me!" Antonio said in desperation, his voice begging for Arthur to listen. He snarled in frustration as Arthur continued walking away from him, and slammed his fist up against the wall. "Damn it Arthur! _Listen _to me! You are being stubborn and idiotic! I love you, can't you see that?" He shouted, slashing out and striking at the wall again, shattering the fragile bones of his hand and knuckles. This wasn't like Antonio at all! The Spaniard was never like this!

A picture that had been hanging on he wall Antonio struck crashed to the floor, the glass splintering into little shards and slivers of glass. The commotion startled Arthur enough that he turned around to face the man, eyes widening at the sight of his bloodied hand and the sheer terror and panic in his eyes. "What the hell are you doing? My God Anthony!" He shouted angrily. He rushed over to his trembling Spaniard and gently grabbed is broken hand, inspecting it with concern shimmering in his eyes. You bloody idiot! Why would you do that?!" He growled, pulling Antonio into the kitchen, being careful despite his anger. He was able to forget his pain and embarrassment in favor of cleaning up his love's hand.

With a sigh he grabbed a dish towel from the counter and sat Antonio down in a chair at the table. He felt irrational tears building behind his eyes as he walked to the sink and ran warm water of the dish rag, his throat constricting with guilt as he did so. It was all his fault for being so touchy! Sighing again he shut the water back off and returned to Antonio with the moist, warm rag. "What was the point of punching the wall? A wanker..." He scolded, voice softer this time as he cleaned Antonio's split knuckles and kissed the back of his hand gently, avoiding the splintered bones as best he could.

"You... Y-You were leaving! You weren't listening to me... I didn't want you to go..." Antonio whispered, voice taught with pain from both Arthur's flight and the pain in his hand. He looked down at the floor, resembling a beaten child. He was afraid of Arthur leaving, afraid of hurting him and scarring him away. They had been separated for the longest time after their pirate days. He still dreamed about Arthur being gone. Still dreamed about how alone he had been after the fall of his Armada. His actions had been irrational, lashing out at the wall and breaking his hand, but it had gotten Arthur to stay. "I didn't want you to leave me... Not again. Te quiero mi Arturo... Te quiero." He whispered, eyes dull with misery and distress.

"Anthony..." Arthur said softly, voice exasperated but tender and full of affection. He never realized how strongly Antonio still remembered being torn from him, and it made him feel even worse for trying to leave him. He rested a calm, cool hand against the Spaniard's cheek, brushing away one of his tears with his thumb. "Hey. Look at me, love." He said softly when Antonio refused to meet his eyes. "I'm not ever leaving you like that again. Never. You hear me? I love you. I love you so much, more than I think you understand sometimes. Even if you ever make me mad enough, or upset me enough to want to leave your house, I will always, always, always come back, because I love you and couldn't live with myself if I hurt you like that again. I promise I'll never leave you like that again. I promise." He said softly, an adoring smile on his face and love filling his verdant eyes.

Antonio's eyes flitted up to Arthur's face and he smiled weakly, believing his Englishman with all his heart. Arthur would never lie about something like that. _I can never do something too stupid to chase him away... But..._ He looked away suddenly, a light blush on his face and nervous apprehension in his eyes. "Amor? If... If what you said is true... Then will you marry me?" He asked in a voice softer than a whisper as he glanced back up and met Arthur's eyes again.

A dazed, shocked expression crossed Arthur's face and he stepped back, his arms wrapping protectively around his stomach. He tried to process what had just happened, what had just been asked of him as fear, apprehension and joy fought in his eyes. Of course he wanted to be with Antonio forever! But... He was a nation. He was England! That was him. Antonio was Spain. If they married... What would that mean for the rest of the world? What would their bosses say? What would his _brothers _say? He could hear Iain now. "_Why would yeh marry that cunt?_" How would they be able to run their nations separately?

Antonio's eyes darkened with determination and he kept his eyes locked on Arthur's face. He had seen the joy in Arthur's eyes, amidst other emotions that is, but the joy was all that mattered to him. He wasn't giving up that easily! He got down on one knee and took one of Arthur's hands in his undamaged one. "Arthur Kirkland. Will you please marry me?" He asked again.

Arthur looked stunned still and his mouth was dry, but he wasn't going to let the greatest thing in his life, his Antonio, down. He wanted to be with him forever, so what did it matter what the others thought or said? He looked down at Antonio with over bearing affection and determination. "Yes. Yes I will..." He whispered with a smile and tears in his eyes.

Antonio grinned and stood back from the floor, pulling Arthur to him in a tight hug. He kissed the smaller man passionately. His heart was so full of love he felt like he was about to burst. He loved him so much. Once they broke appart though, a shadow of something darker covered his joy. Depression. "That is assuming Ivan doesn't destroy us all for trying to save Ludwig..."

Arthur sighed unhappily, thinking the same thing as he stood there in Antonio's warm, spicy smelling arms. He pressed his face into Antonio's neck, breathing in the scent of his skin and trying to banish the negative thoughts. "Everything will work out..."_ I hope_

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**As the meeting is coming! I wonder how Ludwig is holding up! As always, reviews are awesome! :) **


	11. Chapter 11

**So. More fluff! Yea!**

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Gilbert sat on the couch in his brother's house with a beer in his hands. Neither he or Elizabeta had wanted to return to their own home. Elizabeta because Roderich would be there, and both Gilbert and she knew he would never endorse what they were trying to do to save the youngest Germanic nation. That and she wasn't entirely fond of her ex-husband. The good thing about staying with Gilbert for the month that she had, was they had both come to realize that they held affection for each other, though they hadn't had the conversation yet. It was more of an unspoken connection. Gilbert had suffered nightmares since he had been home, and Elizabeta had after the first few nights of his screams, had taken to sleeping in the same bed as him. They took care of each other's injuries. It was a comfortable, functional relationship.

Gilbert stayed in the house because, well, he had never liked being alone in the first place and the majority of his things were already at his brother's house. That, and the sight of his OCD brother's house with his things in their precise places was comforting, leaving a bittersweet feeling in the space of his chest where he figured a heart had been at one point.

He drank his beer slowly and just stared off into space. The albino man still wore a bandage around his head from when Ivan had shattered the bones in the upper right side of his face, as well as a rib brace. From all of the damage he had taken, most of his bruises and minor lacerations had healed, but his body had focused on mainly the surface damage and, even as a nation, he was still weak and banged up. He took a long swig of beer, wanting to be able to see into the future.

Tomorrow was the meeting. The others would either listen to what Antonio and Feliciano and the others had to say, or they wouldn't, in which case they would all be punished. Them for helping him escape, and him for escaping. Not to mention his kleiner bruderchen would be stuck with the friking communist pig of a Russian Ivan had turned into.

Gilbert was so lost in thought he didn't realize someone had come up behind him until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He let out a furious snarl and was up off the couch, knife drawn and facing his intruder within a few heart beats, only to fall to his knees, gasping for breath and clutching at his ribs, both beer and knife clattering to the floor beside him. "Mein Gott." He rasped through gritted teeth.

Elizabeta was on her knees beside him almost as soon as he had fallen, a similar bandage wrapped around her head. "Gilbert! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to startle you! Dear are you alright?" She asked rapidly. "I should know not to sneak up on you... I'm so sorry!"

A soft rattle could be heard deep in Gilbert's chest as he breathed, the pain slowly fading to a more tolerable level. "Not your fault liebling." He rasped quietly, leaning, against her to rest for a couple of minutes. "I over reacted again. I know you're here... I shouldn't be so jumpy! It's totally not awesome..."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Elizabeta's face at his words and she gently wrapped an arm around him. "May I help you up, or are you going to to flay me with your knife, dear" She teased, securing her arm around him a bit more firmly and draping one of his arms around her shoulders, helping him to his feet. "You want me to get you another beer, dear" She asked as she set him down gently on the couch.

Gilbert grinned despite the sharp spikes of pain that shot through his ribs. "Ja. That would be awesome of you Liz." He said, mischievously raising an eyebrow, knowing that she hated the nick name. It was what Roderich called her. In all honesty, he hated the nick name almost as much as she did.

"You want me to break the other side of your face with my frying pan? It'd make you more attractive. You might actually manage o not make me sick then." Elizabeta shot back, rolling her eyes.

Gilbert laughed softly, wincing as the pain flared up again when the movement jostled his battered frame. "You're just jealous of mein awesome! I'm so attractive with my broken face and ribs you can't handle it. Just like you can't handle my five meters!" He called in a harsh, rattling voice after her as she disappeared into the kitchen. His grin widened further as she reappeared with two beers in one hand and her favorite frying pan and the Hungarian's ultimate weapon of choice, in the other. An irate scowl was etched onto her beautiful face.

"Five meters? More like five centimeters. I can't handle your small, almost nonexistent "awesome"" She retorted, walking to the couch, and coming up to stand behind him. She lightly tapped the top of his hand with her frying pan, stay well away from the right side of his face.

"You just wish it was small enough for you to deal with. Tell me, is that why you put up with that stuck up, pompous ass so long?" Gilbert asked teasingly, resting his head back on the couch so he could look up at Elizabeta.

He was rewarded when the Hungarian laughed despite her slight irritation and lightly kissed the top of his head. "Would you just take your damn beer and shut up" She asked, dropping the unopened beer in his lap and walking to the front of the couch, flopping down next to him with a long sigh. She pulled her legs up underneath her and rested against him.

"Kesesese. I must be right." Gilbert teased, picking up the bottle opener on the side table beside the couch. He took Elizabeta's beverage from her hand and opened it before giving it back to her. "Is Roddy coming to the meeting tomorrow?" He asked conversationally, though his nose was wrinkled up at the thought as he opened his own.

Elizabeta shrugged, taking a long swig from her beer. "He might. I'm not his keeper though so... Really I don't know, nor do I particularly care." As she said this, her eyes fixated on the spilt beer on the floor as she spaced, losing herself in thought with a small frown on her rosy lips. _The meeting is tomorrow already? I don't want to leave here though! Gil... Gilbert may be irritating sometimes, but he isn't nearly as bad as Roderich. _She thought, feeling grief pull at her heart. With a start she shook her head, realizing that she actually wanted to post pone the meeting just to stay with Gilbert. The thought sickened her and she quickly took another swig of her beer to hold down the bile rising in her throat.

Gilbert glanced down at her curiously, hand half extended to brush the hair from her face, though he let it drop awkwardly in his lap. He didn't know that the rather intimate gesture would be looked upon kindly by the rather unpredictable woman. "What are you thinking about Eliza?" He asked after a moment, playing with the bottle of his alcohol in an almost nervous way.

Face burning with shame and a dark blush, Elizabeta glanced up at Gilbert, looking almost as nervous and awkward as the albino man she leaned against did. "It's nothing lo- dear." Her blush darkened as she realized she almost called him "love". "I... I was just thinking how comfortable I've gotten here is all." She continued, biting the inside of her lip and looking back down to the alcohol spilled on the floor.

"Here? Or... Or with someone?" Gilbert asked, heart thundering in his chest. There was a reason they hadn't had the conversation for the entire month. He wasn't good a expressing his emotions, and Elizabeta wasn't good at giving up her rather feminist pride. Expressing how they felt about each other was a difficult feat for both of them, made both of the squirm.

"W-Well... Um. It could have something to do with... With the person I've been staying with..." Elizabeta whispered, her hands trembling as she held her beer and laid against Gilbert. She laughed nervously, breathlessly when Gilbert gently pried the glass bottle from her hands and set it on the table. "You see... Th-There was this guy I hung out with when we were little... He was a bit strange. Annoying really. Completely different from anyone, anywhere. He liked picking on me, and we argued and fought all the time... But we had some good times. Well... He swore to me back then that I was a girl and he helped me find who I really am back then... And I have had quite the infatuation with him ever since... But you know I was never too sure how he felt about me..." She said, quite and shy.

Gilbert looked startled and very slowly, to give her plenty of time to move from him, he wrapped a cold, translucent arm around her waist. His heart had to have been loud enough for her to hear, and nervous jitters ran through him. This wasn't something he was good at, speaking to women. Sure he joked, but he joked because there had really only ever been one woman he had ever paid attention to. Only one woman had been in control of his heart, and she had gone off to marry some whiney musician who couldn't fight his own battles. The whole hypothetical element the conversation had taken made it quite a bit easier to confess, though his face was bright red, nearly the same shade as his crimson irises. "Well... I hate to tell you this, but a beautiful girl stole his heart. He loves everything about her you know. Her soft chestnut hair, her porcelain skin. He loves her rosy lips and her pale green eyes. He loves her fiery spirit, even if it has resulted in a concussion or two. He loves her determination to help even the most stubborn people, loves her voice, loves her... He just loves _her..." _He whispered, smiling down at her shyly.

"Really? You... I-I mean he loves her? Mmm... I think... Now these are just my words, but... I think she loves him back." Elizabeta said with a soft, adoring smile. Slowly she stretched up and placed her lips against his, kissing him softly, questioningly, almost as if she was afraid to offend him.

Gilbert responded to her kiss with one just as soft and questioning before pulling away with a shy smile, very un-Gilbert like. "You think... Tou think this will work?" He asked hopefully, before coughing and looking away, blushing again. "Tomorrow I mean... You think... You think Alfred will listen and "let" everyone try to get Ivan to let go of Ludwig?" He asked, taking a long drink of his beer, finishing it off with a sigh.

With a frown, Elizabeta looked up at Gilbert and sighed, the teasing, loving light having dimmed with his on coming seriousness. "I think he will, yes. In all honesty I am more worried about what our Russian "friend" will do when half the worlds' nations show up at his house to talk. So the other nations don't try to fight with Ivan if he reacts badly, who's to say Ivan doesn't start the attack instead? You know as well as I do that he won't see this as just talking..." She sighed with a shrug and reached for her beer again, mumbling a soft "sorry" when she accidentally brushed against Gilbert's damaged ribs.

Gilbert coughed softly, trying to hide the sudden pain, and nodded in understanding. "You never know. Maybe he'll listen if enough of us tell him what he is doing is wrong.. I don't even know." He said, trying to be optimistic, though he didn't believe his own words.

Elizabeta apparently agreed. She let out a snort of humorless laughter and gave Gilbert an exasperated look. "You're kidding me right? You don't honestly believe that. I know you." She took a swig of her beer before handing the half finished alcohol to Gilbert, not wanting it anymore. "We'll just have to see what happens tomorrow... I'm going to go take a shower. Be right back, love." She said, letting the pet name slip this time with a small smile, the word tingling on her lips. She got up from the couch and turned towards the stairs.

"Mmm... Liebe dich." He called after her, trying to make it sound casual though it sent butterflies stirring in his stomach.

Green eyes flickered back to him, fixing on his face and pale pink lips curled up in a coy smile. "En is szeretlek. You could... always join me. I'll leave the door unlocked." She called to him, sending a wink over her shoulder before disappearing from sight.

Gilbert laughed softly and shook his head, though his amusement quickly died as he remembered her words. "Just have to wait until tomorrow..." He echoed with a frown, finishing off her beer and absently playing with the iron cross around his neck._ Just until tomorrow..._

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**Fluff! I forgot about this chapter honestly... I promised the meeting though, so I will update the next chapter immediately! Review? **


	12. Chapter 12

**THIS looks like a world meeting! Success! The only warning in this chapter is Antonio has a bit of a temper and they discuss Gilbert's treatment under Ivan's "care" in slight detail.**

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_International News Report- Today the nations of the world are as to what the meeting is about has still been kept hidden from all. The mystery as to why Spain and Britain has called this meeting continues. Further information to come. _

_ "_They call this meeting and then show up late!" Roderich complained in his whiny, shrill voice for the third time. The Austrian sat stiffly in his chair, disdainfully watching the others as tensions grew ever higher with the absence of Antonio and Arthur.

"What is this about? Does anyone know?" Kiku asked softly. Of all the people in the room, he was the one who had the best guess, though he didn't want to ruin anything. It was clear his friends kept the subject matter a secret for a reason.

"Yu know as much as we do, Kiku." Yao said, the oldest nation growing rather grumpy as he lounged lazily in his chair, chin resting against his panda's head.

"Guys guys! They might just be getting food before the meeting! Cut Iggy a break! Haha!" Alfred chimed in, not wanting to be outspoken by any of the others, even though he was just as irritated as the others about the no show. Being late like this wasn't even something he did anymore. _Come on Arthur! What ever this is about... you won't get to tell anyone if you take much longer! _

"We aren't all as driven by food as you are. Alfred. I bet that Spaniard just slept in. It's ust like him to be lazy and forget that had a meeting to attend that he called!" Roderich said, all high and superior as he always had to be.

"Has anyone seen-" Matthew began though he never got to finish his question, not that anyone would have acknowledged him. The door swung open with a bang and in stepped a rather edgy looking Feliciano, his warm brown eyes regarding the gathered nations with fear, Arthur, looking annoyed and gentlemanly as ever, groomed neatly with his flaxen hair in a disarray atop his head, and Antonio, grinning broadly with his confident emerald eyes.

If the clamor in the room had been loud before, it grew into a crescendoing, deafening roar of sound as they all fought to be heard, all but screaming over one another.

"Why is Feliciano with you?" Came the confused voice of Matthew.

"You're late!" Roderich sniffed, glaring at the three with distaste.

"What is this about?" Alfred asked, curious more so than unkind

"Why didn't you invite Ivan?" Yao accused

"What's going o-"

"Enough! How are we supposed to answer your questions if you all keep shouting?" Antonio growled, his laid back spirits giving way to the dark conquistador hidden inside. The others quieted with eyes widening in surprise. It wasn't often Antonio lost his temper. "Now then. Keep your mouths shut." He said, eyes flashing as he challenged someone to speak. "What we need to say is going to anger many of you, but I'd just listen. I may not have an ax to shut you all up with, but I trust you are all smart enough not to mess with me. If you are, El Dio... My He bless your souls." He held their undivided attention for a long while, just standing before him as the waited for him to speak again. When he stepped back, surprise rippled through the room, strengthening when he took a seat beside Arthur and Feliciano stood to take his place.

"Ve~ A... A month and for days ago, on August 24, I, F-Feliciano Vargas of North Italy went into the..." Feliciano's frame shook with fear and he paused, sending a frantic look at Antonio and Arthur. He locked eyes with Arthur when the Brit mouthed the word "Ludwig" and took a deep, calming breath to begin again. _For Luddy. _He told himself firmly. "I went into the country of Germany with my brother, Lovino Vargas of South Italy. Upon arrival at the German's, Ludwig Beilschmidt's, house," The clamor started up again, angry and frantic.

"_Enough!_" Antonio snarled, startling even Arthur with the venom his words possessed. "Let. Him. Speak." The room fell dead silent, eyes trained on Antonio. Some held wonder, others annoyance, but none dared to speak again.

Feliciano smiled gratefully and continued. "I left my brother in the car and went inside. The house was in complete disarray, and to my surprise and ran into Elizabeta Hedervary. The Hungarian claimed to have been taking care of the sickly German since the end of the war and the separation of Prussia and Germany, a separation that also resulted in the forced separation of Gilbert Beilschmidt from his younger brother." Feliciano paused again, looking at Antonio with questioning eyes as he approached a new part he knew the others wouldn't like.

Antonio raised an eyebrow and nodded his head, letting the small Italian know it would be alright and to continue, eyes sweeping across the room as the others shifted uneasily in their seats.

The tawny haired nation bit his lip and sighed, looking down at the ground. "Sickened, and frightened for my friend's life, I requested the help from my brother, Kiku Honda, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, Arthur Kirkland and Elizabeta Hedervary in a mission to rescue Gil-" as expected, the Italian was cut of as indignant roars of fury sounded from the throats of more than one nation.

"Restrain them all! They have gone against the decision of the world!" Someone shouted in fury, though it was impossible to tell who it was through all the noise. Soon Feliciano found himself cornered by Yao and Roderich. His eyes widened in terror as he tried to run away, only to be pressed against the wall.

Surprisingly, before Antonio had the chance to get the others to back of, Alfred stood up, pushing his glasses up on his nose and pushing himself between the two angry nations and the shuddering Italian. "Wait for a second! Let's wait to hear the rest of what Feliciano has to say!" He commanded. "Antonio is right. We should let him speak without interruptions. The American didn't move from in front of Feliciano until the others had all sat back down. "now. You were sayng?" He asked, sitting back down and gesturing for him to continue wit a smile.

Feliciano hesitantly looked at Antonio and Arthur, finding courage in their unwavering determination. "... A mission to rescue Gilbert from East Germany, where the actions of Ivan Braginski had gone unchecked and unnoticed." He paused, looking at all the faces in the room, many of which had stayed silent through the entirety of the meeting so far. Kiku, Alfred, Francis, Yao, Antonio, Arthur, Roderich, Vash, Felix, Matthias, Lukas, Berdwald, Tino, Emil, Heracles, Sadiq, even Lars and Bella. _These people can help..._ He thought, continuing on with confidence. "On August 28, the nations aforementioned, including myself, traveled into Russia. Kiku parted ways with us to watch the wall, Antonio and Arthur went inside to lead Ivan from his house, and Elizabeta, my brother and I all waited for the all clear to go rescue Gilbert. A window to the basement bathroom was open, and I slipped through it, though managed to make enough noise to draw Ivan's attention to me. He captured me, as well as Arthur and Antonio. I was afraid, as any of you would be, but it was more because of what state we found Gilbert in than any true terror for my own well being." Feliciano paused and glanced at the door. "Eliza... You and Gilbert should come in now." He called.

It took a moment, but Elizabeta soon appeared, leading Gilbert behind her. She walked slowly, aiding the Prussian who didn't appear to be able to walk well under his own power. She had kept the bandage around her head, though Gilbert had stubbornly taken his off, revealing a nasty, spider web like wound that was half scarred, half opened. The most damage was concentrated on his temple. Crimson eyes regarded his condemners with carefully neutral eyes as the took in his still battered appearance. Apart from the scar on his face and head, he also still had his rib brace on, covered in stark white bandages that made his translucent skin look even paler. Elizabeta had convinced him not to wear a shirt to better show off his bandages, even though he couldn't stand when people stared.

"Why not just take a picture? It lasts longer. You all should have seen me when I was first rescued." Gilbert tried to joke, voice still raspy and harsh in his chest. "Seriously. We took pictures... You all should see." He said, voice dead serious and accusing, challenging. He took a folder of pictures from Elizabeta and threw them down on the table with the same furious, accusing eyes. It was these people's fault he had endured what he had, why Ludwig was no doubt enduring the same. The other nations passed around the photos, sickened, horrified, disgusted. Gilbert kept his eyes averted from the other nation's faces and from the pictures themselves. He didn't realize he was trembling until Elizabeta's arms wrapped around him from behind and she rested her forehead against his shoulder.

"It's ok love. It's ok. Shhh... Don't think about it. He can't touch you now. He can't hurt you." Elizabeta whispered in a rush. She pulled the flower from her hair and put it in Gilbert's, more to comfort him by giving him a piece of herself. She didn't dare prolong their hug with Roderich's disapproving eyes on them.

Gilbert reached up to touch the flower in his hair, eyes soft and actually flashing with fear for a brief moment. So Ivan couldn't touch him, couldn't hurt him. Not physically, but he could still hurt his brother! That's why they were there though.

Feliciano continued his story after a moment, the room now dead silent. "We were all downstairs the next day when we heard crashing upstairs. Lovino and Elizabeta had come to rescue us... They served as a distraction, battling Ivan. This allowed Ludwig Beilschmidt to come and get us out of the basement." He paused uncertainly as a rather confused looking Matthias raised his hand, for once being polite. "M-Matthias?" He asked curiously.

"Ludwig came to rescue you guys? How... How does that work He wasn't supposed to cross the wall...And if he didn't know you were going over to East Germany to rescue Gilbert, how would he have known where to go?" He asked, dodging a smack to the back of his head by Lukas. The blonde haired nation was usually rather obnoxious, but the question was actually one many of the others had been asking themselves as well.

"Oh! Ve~ Lovi! Lovino went to Ludwig's house after I got captured and got Ludwig to help. I don't know how they got over the wall, but they did. He... He begged for my Luddy to help..." Feliciano's heart had leapt into his throat and a horrible pressure was building behind his eyes as the started to well with tears. "He explained to us what the plan was. Arthur and I were supposed to get Gilbert out of the house, while he and Antonio were supposed to go find Elizabeta and Lovino." He stopped there, eyes closing and trembles rocked his frame and sobs shook him silently. He couldn't bring himself to voice the next part of the story.

Gilbert sighed and shuffled to the small Italian's side with sympathetic crimson eyes. He wrapped translucent arms around the trembling man and pulled him to his battered chest, similar to how he would to Ludwig when he had been younger. "We all headed up the stairs then..." He continued the story where Feliciano had stopped, glaring at all the others venomously. "Mein bruder went first, then Feli and Iggy helped me up the stairs, following close behind him. Antonio brought up the rear. When we hit the top of the stairs we found Ivan had smashed Elizabeta in the head with the pipe, a blow similar to something I had suffered earlier." He said bitterly, running a cool, gentle, probing finger over the divoting scars that marred his temple. "Ludwig told Arthur to get her and together the four of us, Feliciano, Arthur, Elizabeta and myself, escaped into the woods behind the house. When Antonio and Lovino joined us maybe an hour later, mein kleiner bruder... Mein Ludwig... Wasn't with them." He spat through gritted teeth. "He stayed behind, giving himself over to Ivan without a fight to allow the rest of us to esape without prosecution or punishment." He paused when he felt Feliciano's tears splashing against his shoulder. "He saved our lives, and our nations. Ivan was all ready to declare war on them all... Now I don't know about you all... But after having been held prisoner by Ivan and being beaten like I was... I'm just praying he hasn't died yet."

"So... Gilbert, now you expect us all to fight _another _war for you and your brother, when the entire ting could have been easily avoided if you all would have just done as you were told? Yes. The way Ivan treated you is inexcusable. It was completely unnecessary, and I'm sorry he hurt you as bad as he did, really I am... But I know none of us are ready for another war... I'm sorry Gilbert, but I won't subject America to another war so soon... And I advise the others to follow suit." Alfred said, rubbing his temple and looking away. He wanted to help, it was just in his nature to try to help out everyone. He hated seeing anyone in as much pain as Gilbert was, but at the same time he wouldn't be following the rules as a nation and putting his people first if he promised to fight on Gilbert's side.

"Nein. Not exactly. I'm not asking you to fight Alfred. I'm not asking any of you to fight actually... We think if enough of us talk to Ivan, he might listen and understand that what he is doing is wrong.. Bitte Alfred." Gilbert begged quietly, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He hated to admit to anyone, but Alfred especially, that he wasn't strong enough to save Ludwig himself. "Gott... Bitte. You of all people should know I wouldn't be asking for help if I was capable of doing this alone..." He whispered, hanging his scarred, silver haired head in defeat, his shoulders hunched forward in defeat, and his pride shattering in the eyes of the strongest nation in the world.

A rustle of surprise stirred the room as Matthew stood up and walked over to stand beside Gilbert and Feliciano, both shy and confident. His face was a light shade of pink as he held Kuminjiro tightly to his chest and coughed to clear his throat. "I... I'm um... Dating Ivan.. I don't know how many of you knew that..." The Canadian flinched and hid behind Gilbert as the others let out indignant cries of fury and actually whimpered when Alfred looked at him with such hurt in his eyes he thought he was going to cry. "No please! Don't... Don't be upset! He isn't so bad... I can help you talk to him! He... He might listen to me..." He said quietly, not meeting the others' eyes. "I think h-"

"Mattie no! Sit down... You aren't getting any more involved with this than I am! I don't care if you have an attachment to Ivan... Sit back down." Alfred said, sounding frantic and appalled that his sweet, soft spoken brother would be involved with his enemy. "It's not worth getting mixed up in th-"

"No!" Matthew said, glaring at his brother with more fire than any of the gathered nations had ever seen from determination quickly faded though and he fixed his eyes on his feet, biting his lip. "Alfred I'm going to help them, and y-you aren't going to stop me. Gilbert and L-Ludwig are my friends, and if they need m-my help, I'll be darn sure to give it to them! S-So stop sitting on your butt a-and actually try to be the hero y-you claim to be!" Matthew yelled in as loud a voice he could muster, lavender eyes huge as the other nations stared up at him in shock.

Alfred actually looked ashamed as he dipped his head with a sigh. He remained that way for a moment before looking up at his brother with a smile. "Alright Mattie . Alright. I'll go with you to talk to the Russian." He said with a sigh before getting up and walking to them. "For the record though, you all are crazy to think he'll listen."

Matthias was the next to get up with an arrogant smirk and his ax in hand. "I'll come! I am always up for a nice battle... And I miss my neighbor. Luddy is fun to drink with and always has good beer... Come on Lukas!" He called over his shoulder to the small, quiet Norwegian.

Lukas rolled his eyes, looking rather like he wanted to smack the Danish. He stood beside Matthias with a glare, looking unamused. "Apparently Matthias is dragging me to help you..." He mumbled, glancing irritated, at the other Nordics.

Arthur and Antonio stood up and walked beside them and Elizabeta stepped closer to the group. "It's pointless to say that we'll help, considering we've already said it... Gracias amigos. Antonio said, pulling his fiance to him in a tight hug.

"Alright. Alright we get it. You're thankful for our help. When are we going? And what exactly is it that we are doing in the first place? I can't be the hero without knowing what we are doing..." Alfred said, looking more determined than before.

Gilbert glanced at Feliciano, only to find that the Italian was looking back at him questioningly. He sighed and tried not to focus on the anger driven nervousness clawing out his chest. "Tomorrow we will all meet at Ludwig's. It is the closest place from where Ivan is holding him captive. We all go to talk to him, make it clear we aren't looking for a fight... Tell him what he is doing is wrong, show him it isn't ok... With any luck he'll listen to us and let mein bruder go. But if he doesn't, this is important, Matthias, Antonio." Gilbert warned, glancing at each man in turn. If anyone was likely to pick a fight with the soviet, it was them. "No one is to try to fight Ivan. That'll only result in a war... That happens it's more than likely that many of you will end up dissolved. If not even Alfred or Ivan himself are ready for another war... Well... It's just crucial that no one provokes him. If he doesn't listen, then I have a different idea we can try. I don't want to resort to plan B, but if it comes down to that..." _Only I'll be the one affected. _He finished the thought in his head, flinching at the mere idea.

Everyone nodded in agreement, even Antonio though the gesture was reluctant and only coaxed out of him because of a gentle kiss to the back of his hand from English lips. "We'll see you all bright and early tomorrow then." Arthur said, dismissing everyone from the meeting. As everyone filed out, he leaned into Antonio, smiling slightly when strong, tanned arms wrapped around him without hesitation. "I hope this works, love..." He whispered softly, burying his face into Antonio's neck with a soft sigh._ I can't lose you because of someone's careless words Anthony... I can't..._

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**Dun dun duuuuuun! What is everyone going to do when they see Luddy all beaten up? And Gilbert... What is he thinking? He certainly has something up his sleeve... Reviews are great! **


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry about the wait. I was on a trip and wasn't able to update! The warnings in this one? Mmm... More Germany and Russia. **

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Ludwig woke with a start, having been plagued with yet another nightmare. He had had them before, but not to the caliber the ones he had been having were. He didn't care to count how many times he had watched his brother brutally murdered, always reaching to him for help with a bloodied, trembling hand, screaming for him to help with tears of both agony and terror in his eyes. Every time he'd be too far away, too powerless to stop it. Every time he' die, hatred in his crimson eyes as the life drained from him, always accusing. It was Ludwig's fault any of this had happened after all. It was a dream like this he woke up from, a ragged scream bubbling past his lips.

It was only when the sound stopped, leaving behind only an eerie echo of his pain, that he realized he was chained down heavily to an uncomfortable wooden chair of some sort. With an angry snarl he thrashed around, desperate to escape the chair, though all his efforts resulted in was a sharp agony and a yelp of pain. He hurt _everywhere._

Aside from his first night, his sadistic Russian captor had refrained from setting him on fire. In the wake of the flames he had been whipped, beaten to the point of shattered bones by the lead pipe, cut to shreds, shot at, branded, and sprayed with acid, and yet somehow he felt like the worst was yet to come. He would never admit it to anyone, save himself and maybe, just maybe, his alter bruder, but he was terrified. At the sound of heavy boots treading down the hall, he flinched and let out a soft whimper as his heart stuttered and exploded in his chest, growing painfully fast at the knowledge he was soon to be cursed with Ivan's presence.

The door slammed open, revealing an SS garbed Ivan. Two flogging whips were in his gloved hands, each having multiple lashes. The tips of each lash glistened faintly in the dim light of the room as the bits of broken vodka bottles reflected the light. Almost casually Ivan jerked his wrists, sending both whips out to kiss Ludwig's sides, drawing blood hungrily. Apparently Ivan wasn't wasting anytime in pleasantries today. A Dark, childish grin split his lips as he moved closer to his German prisoner.

"Privyet Ludwig. I am having something new for you today." Ivan said in a too bright voice as he sent both whips lashing across Ludwig's sides and chest again. Blood splashed up and his cheek, something he found exceedingly humorous. "Blood already?" He giggled, running a finger carelessly through the spot of blood on his cheek.

Ludwig jerked under the bite of the whip, a groan of pain escaping him. How Ivan was able to be so cheerful as he cruelly mutilated another man, he didn't know. For the most part he was able to ignore the sting of the glass and whips as the cut into him, though when one caught his neck and cut it open he shuddered and squeezed his dull blue eyes shut to try to keep back the tears that sprung to them. His heart thundered ever faster in his chest as he pressed back against the chair, futilely trying to get as far from his Russian captor as possible as the whips caressed his bloodied skin.

"Is it hurting already?" Ivan purred in mock concern as he sent the whips out, tearing at Ludwig's skin. He smirked as his prisoner jerked under the hungry mouths of the whips and with a giddy little giggle he swung the instruments to and fro, carelessly slicing up Ludwig's sides, legs, chest, neck, shoulders, face... Every inch of exposed flesh. It wasn't long before the German resembled a bloodied piece of meat more than he did a man, but this was something Ivan had done before. That meant it was only the beginning, only a warm up for what was truly to come.

It didn't take long for Ivan to get bored, he usually did when Ludwig stubbornly remained silent save the occasional groan or gasp of pain as he hit a particularly sensitive spot on the man's body. All to soon he dropped the whips and drew closer to Ludwig, boots becoming slick with scarlet blood as it collected in a pool underneath the battered man chained to the chair. "You are looking uncomfortable, da? Let me be helping..." He said cheerfully as he switched on a switch on the wall.

At first all that Ludwig did was twitch, but soon he was convulsing in the chair, his scream filling the room as pulse after pulse, wave after wave of powerful electric currents coursed through his weakened body. He was all but paralyzed from the sheer amount of agony that rendered every nerve powerless from the agonizing, jolting electricity that had it's way with his body. The thirty second Ivan had the chair turned on for, were the longest thirty seconds of Ludwig's life and he was all too grateful when the electricity stopped shooting through him, instantly going limp in the chair once it stopped. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he was unable to do anything but sit there, limbs to wracked with pain to be able to move well at all. He knew there was some reason he shouldn't show weakness to this man, but he couldn't for the life of him remember why through the haze of agony that shrouded everything. He couldn't remember who he was. No wait. That wasn't true. He was Ludwig... Ludwig.

"Oh Ludwig. Don't be crying now! We can keep playing!" Ivan cooed, unchaining the German man with something that resembled affection. Immediately the usually strong blonde nation slumped to the ground in his own pool of blood. His blood, still oozing lazily from his wounds, splattered the already saturated ground, the chair, he had been so brutally electrocuted in, and even the Russian that loomed above him with a dark, sinister grin. "Come on now Luddy, you can't be sleeping on me now! Ludwig..." He frowned as the German defiantly stayed on the ground, his blue eyes, though glazed with an insurmountable amount of pain, held an unshakable determination to defy Ivan's wishes. The expression infuriated him, and with a vicious snarl he sent his heavy, steel toed boot into his prisoner's ribs with all the force he could muster. "I said get up Ludwig!" He growled furiously, kicking him again.

Ludwig yelled raggedly in pain, curling around his ribs as best he could, trying to protect them from the vicious kicks. Muffled snaps sounded from inside of him and blood slowly began to trickle from his mouth as he tried to struggle to his feet. He just couldn't get his feet under him, couldn't force his limbs to work properly and push him up. His strength, usually something that was sure and unshakable, was failing him. The boot connected with his ribs again, but the only sound that escaped him was a whimper and a low groan, his already ravaged, bloodied side taking in further damage.

"Get. Up. _NOW._" Ivan shouted, bringing his foot up and stomping down on Ludwig's shoulder, forcing the German to uncurl and expose his chest. With a cruel, twisted expression he stomped down on Ludwig's sternum and collar bones repeatedly, over and over and over until his usually broad chest glistened with crimson, jagged bones sticking through his skin, random and directionless. A caved in chest was usually such a fatal injury, but Ludwig was Germany. He was a nation. He could die, but it took more than just physical damage like this. That left the German only able to slay there and take his torturing, enduring the agony until it was all he could feel. He was reduced to a slab of meat, something that caused Ivan a great amount of joy.

"I am thinking we are needing to play a different game." Lavender eyes flashed with deadly glee as he spoke, fighting back giggles. "I am having a great idea. You'll love this game Luddy." He giggled, pulling a serrated knife from the pocket of the SS jacket he wore. Humming cheerfully, he pressed the blade against Ludwig's abdomen, causing the German to shudder uncontrollably with terror. "Little Luddy, don't you cry. If you cry, you're sure to die." The Russian said in a singsong voice as he stabbed the knife into Ludwig's stomach, creating a deep, horizontal incision just under his belly button.

Blood, if it was possible the man had any more to lose, welled up and spilled down Ludwig's stomach. Ivan ran his finger's through the thick, sticky fluid, staining his frozen fingers as red as the color of his people. His communists. With a giggle he pressed his hand inside of Ludwig, seeking out his pale, pink intestines. It was apparent he found what he was looking for when Ludwig felt the strangest, agonizing sensation of something foreign gripping onto the slimy, bumpy organ. He gasped in pain, all the further reaction he was able to muster, as Ivan slowly stroked his intestines, squeezing firmly.

Shudders ran through Ludwig's frame as he laid there, having his insides rearranged by a freezing hand. Ivan didn't stop at just his intestines. He moved up to caress the man's kidneys, his liver, his stomach, all the while leaving the German in harsh convulsions, pain ebbing alarmingly fast as more and more blood poured out of him with each new injury his body absorbed. With a giggle, Ivan leaned over Ludwig's broken body and curiously lapped at the glistening blood welling up slowly around his hand, tasting the sweet, irony substance.

Ludwig was struggling to remain conscious as Ivan prolonged his agony and suffering. He was so overcome with cold, exhaustion and a near full body agony, though the pain was leaving with the increasing chill, that he was only able to cry silently and whimper. His brain was shutting down the majority of his cognitive abilities, desperately trying to protect his mental psyche His heart thundered away in his broken, mangled chest, sporadic and fluctuating, and his lungs fought for air. If all was silent, air could be heard leaking and hissing out of the holes in his lungs and out the multiple wounds across his ribs and chest. A feeble cough wracked his body, flecks of blood joining with mucus.

Ivan finally finished playing with the varies organs inside of Ludwig's abdomen and patted his cheek affectionately with a gore coated hand. "You are not looking well Luddy. Maybe we should continue playing tomorrow, da That way you can be more awa-" He broke of with a curious frown as a knock sounded on the door. He hummed softly as he scooped up the now unconscious Ludwig in his arms and deposited him on the couch before going to the door, blood soaked and Nazi garbed. "Alfred? It is nice to be seeing you. How are missile thin- Who else is being with you? You have brought friends! Matthias, Lukas. I haven't seen you two in a while, da?There are more?" He stopped talking with a frown, his cheerful attitude towards his visitors slowly disappearing. "Antonio... Arthur..." He said, growing immediately suspicious. "And Elizabeta and Gilbert too. I am understanding now. You are here for the Ge-"

"Enough of that. We've come to talk." Alfred said, standing up straight and proud as he addressed the Russian. "We all have seen the way you treated Gilbert and, judging by your appearance..." The American trailed off, fighting back a shudder as his eyes refused to leave the blood splattered uniform. "We aren't trying to pick a fight, if we were I would have launched my missiles, and you know it. We're simply here to kindly ask you release Ludwig, seeing as you have taken such poor care of prisoners in the past." The blonde nation was struggling to stay diplomatic, wanting nothing more than to forcibly remove Ludwig from him now that he knew the German's fate was of one similar to Gilbert's.

None of them missed the flash of anger that passed through the Russian's lavender eyes, nor did they over look the way he rather quickly moved outside on the porch ad shut the door after him, blocking their views to inside the house. "We had come to an agreement. They are telling you the whole story, da? They are telling you the reason I have the German instead of his brother, are because they came to be taking Gilbert from me?" He demanded, eyes accusing as they roamed over the furious looking albino.

Matthias adjusted his weight until he was leaning more towards Gilbert, protective though not out right threatening, and as he did so he could feel little stirs of magic sparking from Lukas at his side, the smaller man's eyes training on the Russian, probably more prepared to stop Ivan from attacking than any of the others. Matthias glanced back at his Norwegian with an approving grin before looking back at their enemy. "We know, Ivan. We also know how you beat Gilbert though. That's not what we all agreed to." The Dane said firmly. "We also never said anything about keeping my neighbor prisoner. Can we have him back? I miss my drinking partner." He said with a grin, receiving a rather powerful smack to the back of the head, given by Lukas.

"Nyet! He agreed to st-" True, terrifying fury washed over Ivan's features as he caught sight of someone at the back of the group. He forced past everyone in his way until he stood face to face with a rather quiet, sad looking Canadian. "Mattvie... I was expecting this from all of them. I was expecting them to try to come and forcably remove the German, breaking our agreement... But I was thinking you of all people would be standing behind me. I wasn't expecting it from you... Not my sunflower..."

Matthew's soft purple eyes looked up at Ivan, pleading and apologetic. "Will you please just listen to what they have to say? You're hurting people... They just want you to stop hurting people... That's all." He said in as unoffending of a tone as he could manage, a small smile on his face. "Please Ivan?"

Ivan's eyes darkened further and it took all of his control not to backhand his little Canadian. With exceeding patience that none of the others, save Matthew, got to see he met the other's soft eyes with a frown. "You are having three minutes, Mattvie. Why should I release Luddy? He agreed to stay with me in return for Antonio, Arthur, Elizabeta, Lovino and is little Italian's freedom. Tell me why I should be giving him back." He growled, glaring down at Matthew for a moment before his eyes softened as he caught sight of the Canadian's trembling as he cowered under the weight of his stare. "I'm sorry, my Mattvie. Please... Be continuing now." He said with a sigh, sending a challenging glare around the other nations, daring them to speak.

Matthew smiled slightly, despite his fear of Ivan's anger. "Well... I'm sure it wouldn't be as big of a problem if you weren't hurting people... But you are, and that isn't ok. It is worrying some of the other nations, especially with you being as strong as you are and... Well we all saw what you did to Gilbert and Elizabeta and..." He trailed off, lowering his gaze and flinching away as Ivan glared down at him again, his anger nearly tangible in the air.

"Nyet! He's staying here! He is deserving ever punishment I throw at him, da? Are you all forgetting what he's done? So soon after the destruction of so many? If what I am doing is upsetting some of you, who is to be caring? Who is to be stopping me? That's right. None of you are doing anything but talking! So how bad are you wanting Ludwig back?" He taunted, smacking Matthew across the face with enough force to send the man sprawling. A spark of regret flashed in his eyes as he watched Matthew hit the ground, cupping his cheek and brushing away his tears.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry." Matthew whispered, wanting to get up and hug his Russian, though he didn't. Instead he just stayed pressed against the ground, knowing not to even bother trying to move, for fear he'd anger Ivan even more.

Alfred wasn't having such problems. He took a few steps forward, forgetting his resolve not to strike Ivan when he watched what the man did to his brother. Had it not been for Arthur wrapping restraining arms around him, he would have blown it all by tackling Ivan to the ground and pounding in his face.

"Calm down, pet. A battle may be inevitable by the time this is over, but you don't need to start it." Arthur whispered softly, green eyes firm. "You listened to me once, find it in you to listen again."

The American knew without a doubt he was stronger than the Englishman, but the presence of him was enough to remind him that by touching Ivan would prove dangerous for more people than just him. "You're lucky, Braginski, that there are more logical people here!" Alfred spat, a dark, murderous expression on his usually overly confident, cheerful face.

Ivan just giggled darkly, the sound chilling all of their spines. "I think it is time for you all to be going. We are not getting anywhere talking, and you aren't going to be getting the Germ-" Ivan was cut off by a blood chilling scream of pure fury, horror and fear. No one had even seen the small Italian slip past Ivan and reopen the door.

Feliciano had gone to find Ludwig inside the house for himself. Even if he wasn't strong enough to take him with, he could still reassure the blonde German man that everything was going to be ok and help was trying to reach him. He hadn't had to go very far to find the German. The couch the unconscious near dead man had been laid down on was visible from just inside the door. Everyone watched as the Italian trembled violently, picking up one of, Ludwig's hands in his. "You... Y-You bastard." He managed to choke out after a moment. His normal warm brown eyes dead, void of all emotion save a beast like rage. "You _BASTARD!_" He screamed, voice sounding livid.

Gilbert ran inside after the Italian, half expecting the bloodied Russian to try to stop him. Ivan tough, had realized at this point there was no point in hiding Ludwig from them anymore. One of them had seen him already. At first Gilbert didn't understand why Feliciano had screamed bloody murder, and was bewildered by the usually gentle man's rage, but then he came across the couch the broken, bleeding form of his little brother. He stared, uncomprehendingly, at his brother's form, his brain refusing to process what he was seeing. That couldn't be Ludwig! Ivan had him somewhere else. Ja.. That was it. Ludwig was safe somewhere, not lying dead on this couch. _Mein bruder can't be dead. He can't be! _Gilbert screamed internally to himself, and had the room not gone dead silent enough for him to hear the air hissing from inside his little brother's chest, he would have given himself over to Ivan to beg for death. "L-Ludwig!" He choked out, collapsing beside the younger German as what little strength he had managed to obtain drained out of him, his crimson eyes finally gaining the broken light Ivan had been trying to get from them the entire time he had been captured.

No one else had moved from the front porch, terrified of what they would find, even if they all were able to guess what it was, or rather, who it was. The only person who was able to move after a minute of fuming, was surprisingly Feliciano. He marched outside and got right up in a startled looking Ivan's face. Uncharacteristically fearless, he spat on the man and shoved him back, though the Russian had a good fifty pounds on him. "You. Are. Dead." He whispered in a deadly voice, fury rolling off him in waves. All eyes trained on the tawny haired man, Matthias and Antonio, both with axes raised, waiting for Ivan to strike, Arthur had a gun out, where it came from wasn't entirely clear, Alfred, similar to Arthur, held a handgun. Lukas all but glowed green, his eyes completely white as he stared down, humming with power. Even Elizabeta had her frying pan out in her hands. The only one not openly prepared to strike was Matthew.

Ivan, rather than looking threatened, just looked faintly amused. "Kolkolkol. You can't be killing me, little one. I am a nation, and a strong one at that, and nations are very hard to be killing." Ivan chuckled darkly. "Even little Luddy won't be dying... At least, he shouldn't be. He'll be surviving.. I think."

Feliciano's eyes flashed dangerously as he drew closer to the Russian again. "Who said I was going to kill you now?" He snapped, a cruel smirk on his normally so innocent face. "You think Nazi's are bad, soviet? You just wait. The Resistenza will wipe out your people, your crimson spot of destruction. Ivan Braginski, consider this war. Italy, both North and South, are declaring war on the Soviet Union." He snarled, radiating confidence and defiance. Somehow he managed to capture his German's commanding power easily, something that impressed even all of the old powerhouses, Antonio, Arthur and Matthias. Alfred looked satisfied, a ghost of a smile on his face at the Italian's spunk. Without another backwards glance, Feliciano stalked away, shoulders pulled back, stiff and strong. He had a war to prepare for.

A great commotion broke out as the others grinned, laughing at the irritation in Ivan's eyes. Though a battle wasn't ideal, they would all help. How could they not after everything? Antonio and Arthur quickly followed after Feliciano, knowing he'd need help rallying his people, as well as needing to gather their own while Lukas let out his gathered energy in a burst of green, shattering the side of the house with a satisfied nod. Ivan didn't try to stop them as they too turned and ran off, heading back to their family to prepare as well. Elizabeta, in the end followed after Antonio and Arthur, stopping once she hit the trees to wait for Gilbert. This war... It could kill them all. Alfred lifted his blue eyes to meet Ivan's, a taunting smirk on his face. "You wanted a war, Braginski? You've got one. You can bet I won't try to stop them either." He said in a low voice. "Come on Mattie. We have things to..." But the American trailed off, confusion in his eyes when he didn't see his brother. Praying he already ran ahead, the American left as well.

Ivan laughed maniacally, completely not phased in the slightest by so many official declarations of war. He turned then to come face to face with another livid person, this one a considerably bigger threat to him than any of the others. "Get out of here Gilbert. Go while I still let you. Go prepare for your petty war. You should be hoping I don't kill your brother before you have a chance to strike." He purred, arrogant and already expecting to win.

"You can count on the remainder of the SS forces, and my Prussian soldiers to aid the Resstenza. Doing this to me was one thing. I can live with getting the crap beaten from me but gott verdammt, doing it to my brother is entirely different. You hurt him, and I will never forgive you for it. No one hurts mein kleiner bruder. If Feliciano doesn't kill you, you can be sure that I will." He threatened, voice soft and void of life, similar to his eyes. "I never wanted a war, but you've left us no choice." Gilbert said, already sounding exhausted as he left through the trees, jumping as Elizabeta wordlessly appeared beside him.

"It'll be ok Gilbert. It'll be ok. We'll get him..." She promised, pulling him into a fierce hug and kissing his cheek. Once she pulled back, she took his hand and lead the way through the trees, back to where they could hop the wall to head back to West Germany.

Gilbert sighed, half the journy back a blur. All the while, his thoughts turned to the battle before them._ You want a war Feliciano... Gott... You sure picked one hell of an enemy..._

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**So... Who's excited for the next chapter? Me too. Reviews? :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Well... Here goes guys. Anyone about to read this, this is it.**

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_International News Report- The Soviet Union was attacked by yet another wave of soldiers. This attack consisted of, like the last few, Italians and Prussians, while on another front, Spaniards, Americans and Brits sent out an attack. On yet another front, Danes and Norwegians, scattered through with other Scandinavian brethren, have begun an attack. On the Soviet side of things, bomber planes were sent out, most of them concentrated on Prussia. The nation is receiving severe blows, casualties skyrocketing faster at home than they are in battle. The battle still rages on. While it looks like the Soviet Union is slowly falling, it is unclear as of yet on which side is winning this war. _

Matthias and Lukas fought side by side, wincing each time they killed one of the Soviet soldiers. They had nothing against the poor Lithuanians that had been sent to stop their troops. They weren't as strong as their Russian slave drivers, because in all truth, the poor Baltic men were treated as such, and Matthias and Lukas both thought the fight was ridiculously unfair, weighting heavily in their favor as scores upon scores of the underfed Lithuanians were felled by their high class warriors.

With a might swing, Matthias cleaved two men in half, never having given up on using his extremely out dated ax from his Viking days. The weapon in it of it's self intimidated his enemies. That coupled with the fact that no matter how many times the man was shot he would just keep coming, terrified the men, making it all too easy to dominate the enemy forces.

Lukas too was something to see, a mighty green haze swirling around him chaotically while he also did battle with a blade. The smaller nation wasn't as resilient to being shot... when the bullets hit him. Each time one did approach him, it would be swallowed by the green haze, usually resulting in a strange, echoing roar of anger. "Matthias. Their falling back. Do we let them go?" He asked, a rumble rolling _around _him, coming from the haze.

"Let them go. Let them retreat. We'll send word to Gil and Feli that we've got them running." Matthias said, setting the butt of his ax down on the ground as Lukas' strange haze faded away. "You aren't hurt, are you?" He asked, carefully inspecting the small Norwegian man with a frown, protective and irritating as always.

Lukas smacked him in a head, rolling his eyes, though a ghost of a smile was on his face. "I'm fine Matthias. Just send word to Gilbert and Feliciano." He said, kissing the Danish man quickly before walking away to look for their injured.

Antonio hissed in pain as a bullet grazed across his shoulder blades. He spun and fired his gun, awkwardly and clumsily, though the bullet still hit it's mark. Arthur had insisted that the Spaniard leave his ax and use a gun instead, even though he was an inefficient marksman. He was growing rather frustrated with the whole battle as the gun jammed, again. "Aie! I hate this damned weapon!" He snarled, kneeling to try to fix it yet again. He jumped and swung the gun around to use as a club when a hand touched his shoulder, only to his Arthur in the thigh.

"Bloody hell?! That hurt, you git!" The British man swore, rubbing his thigh. He fired his gun at an approaching man, satisfied when he fell. "I was just trying to help, Anthony!" He said, dropping a well loved ax in front of the Spaniard. "Clearly the gun isn't affective for you, love. Go wreak havoc." He said with a smile as the Spaniard picked his ax up in his hands with a triumphant expression.

Antonio grinned and immediately leapt back into the battle, slashing away, leaving Arthur to laugh behind him, shooting anyone the man missed. _We've got this, Gilbert. Feliciano. Hopefully you chaps are alright as well. _He thought, firing his gun again.

"General Gilbert! Sir! The Resistenza is being pushed back to the wall! General Feliciano has requested you send in more troops! They're dying in droves out there!" A young soldier said, his accent marking him as either German or Prussian. The fall back wouldn't normally have been such a bad thing, but the fear with being pushed against the wall was being pushed _over _it. If the Soviets jumped the wall and brought about the fall of West Germany, not only would it result in a lose of the country, dissolved into Soviet territory, but it would probably kill Ludwig with how weak he was. If a nation lost their country, and were strong enough, they'd be able to continue living, but Gilbert knew his brother was far from strong. "Orders, sir?" The young officer asked, standing stiff and at attention as he addressed the higher ranking man.

"Enough of that, at ease. I will lead the last of our troops myself." The albino man said, looking determined. He didn't miss the look of genuine shock on the young man's face. Up until that point everyone had told the proud Prussian to sit out, after Ivan had started bombing hi, head been growing weak once more. It didn't help that he hadn't ever truly recovered from his time spent with Ivan in the first place. The young officer though, to his credit, didn't comment and simply nodded. "Yes sir. Shall I tell everyone to prepare to head out?" He asked, awaiting further commands.

"Ja. Go tell them to be ready to head out in twenty." Gilbert directed, getting up, hiding his pain and stiffness as he did so. He blinked in shock when the young officer Heiled. The young man could only be twenty or so. How was it that he knew? Gilbert just shook his head and held up a hand. "Bitte. None of that." He said before dismissing the now crestfallen looking man. He groaned once the man had left, rubbing at the bruises that discolored his skin. "I'm coming Luddy. Somehow we'll win.. Then I'll bring you home." He said aloud, shrugging on his Prussian blue military jacket and buttoning it up, belting on his gun and lacing up his boots. With a final look at his brother's office in the Berlin military base, he swept out of the door to go meet his troops.

"Idiota! You are aiming for the Russians, not the Latvians!" Feliciano hissed, knocking down one of his men with a shove, leveling him before he could fire at a terrified looking Latvian soldier. Gratefully, the young man scampered away into the trees, gun clutched to his chest. "We are trying to kill the Russians. No one else. If I see some stunt like that again, you'll be answering to me." Feliciano growled, before spinning around at the chillingly familiar sound. The dark laughter sent sickness, fear, and fury boiling in the Italian commander's stomach. "Ivan." He spat in a deadly tone of voice, racing to the source of the sound as he caught sight of the Russian. He had traded out his mockery of Ludwig's SS uniform for his own black and red Soviet get up.

He ran to the man, gun out, but what he found once he was in Ivan's line of sight stopped him dead in his tracks. The sounds of gunfire and the screams of the dying faded around him, ceasing to register in his brain, as painfully familiar cerulean eyes gazed up at him, sunken into a sickly, battered face. The face was attached to a man, chained to a flogging post that appeared to be freshly staked into the ground. Had he not seen the man's eyes first, he wouldn't have been able to believe this horribly weak person was his Ludwig. "Ludwig..." He whispered, glaring up at Ivan, who only smiled triumphantly, holding a gun to the German's temple. No one had seen the Russian since the beginning of the war, and now here he was, mere meters from Feliciano, and he couldn't do anything about it. Ivan wouldn't hesitate to shoot Ludwig, and he knew it.

"Don't be moving any closer, or I will be shooting your little Luddy in the head. If I shoot him, I can promise you he won't be coming back because you will be broken, and Gilbert will be broken, and my Soviets will dissolve Germany. His nation _will _fall if you move any closer." Ivan threatened, looking positively serious and triumphant. "You are not wanting that, da? Call off your little Resitenza, Italian. They're annoying my poor Soviets. Send them all home. They are having no hope of winning against me anyway. You and I, and your firends as well, can all be going to my house, we'll be writing up a treaty saying I won't be touching any of you, and in return you will all be leaving Ludwig with me, and will be giving me his land when he dies. We can all be forgetting about this, da?" Ivan asked brightly, thriving off all of the suffering around him. Every scream of the dying and shriek of the maimed sent a shiver of joy through him, strengthened even further when they came from a Prussian or Italian throat.

Feliciano vibrated with indignation, snarling something incomprehensible in Italian, rapid fire to the point each word slurred together with the next. With deadly eyes he took a step forward, only to freeze again with a shriek as Ivan giggled and pulled the trigger of his gun, a bullet shooting into Ludwig's skull with a sickening sound, blood trickling down his temple as his head, blonde hair matted with grim and gore, fell forward limply, lolling uselessly. "YOU BASTARD!" He screeched, glued to the spot as he watched Ludwig's blood fall on the ground. The man couldn't be dead! Not after all of this! He could... _Come on Luddy. Lift up your head. You can't die... YOU CAN'T DIE! _He internally screamed, tears running in torrents down his face. "I can't call of the Resistenza. Not when Gilbert is coming to get you out of Germany." He choked out, clutching Ludwig's iron cross that hung around his neck, his courage and determination quickly fading the longer Ludwig didn't move.

Ivan growled, looking furious at Feliciano's refusal, not having expected it after shooting Ludwig in the head. He advanced on the small Italian, only to have a force come at him from behind, knocking him to the ground. The raging albino man pinned Ivan to the ground, his bruised, translucent skin looking even more mottled as more of his people died. With fury in his crimson eyes he brought his fists down on the Russian's face, beating in the man's nose and coating his face in a deep scarlet. "FICK YOU! THAT'S MEIN BRUDER!" He snarled, bringing his fist down to connect with the man's face again.

With a dark laugh Ivan threw Gilbert off of him, sending the weakened albino man flying through the air. "Gilbert! I've been waiting for you, da?" He said with a grin, momentarily distracted by his most hated enemy. He brought a hand up to his gushing nose and got back to his feet, stalking over to where Gilbert lay on his back, coughing violently. "What's the matter, Gil Still clinging to your country as it dies?" He said with a giggle, planning to kick the man in his ribs, but to his surprise the man rolled into him, knocking him to the ground again.

Gilbert's breath wheezed in his throat, but he got to his feet with his gun in his hand and he fired three shots into the man's chest. "Just stay down!" He snarled, moving toward his brother only to be knocked to the ground as Ivan got up and moved after him. He yelped in pain as his bruised skin bashed against the ground. The Russian stood over him then, pulling a rope from in his jacket and binding Gilbert's arms behind him at an awkward angle, making the albino flinch. Each time he moved the bones popped until he thought they were being popped out of place. He rolled towards the Russian as he moved away, only to scream in pain as his arm dislocated. "Wait. Ivan wait!" He panted, teeth gritted against the pain. "Wait... Ivan I have a new compromise for you." He said in a suddenly defeated voice, his heart shattering in his chest.

"Oh? What are you planning, Prussian?" He asked with amusement in his lavender eyes. He knelt beside his enemy, ignoring Feliciano and Ludwig behind him. "Tell me of your plans. Though just be remembering that there is very little you can do that would make me be giving you your precious little brother back." He said with a dark smirk. Why was he even trying to listen to what the Prussian had to say?

:If... If you give me Ludwig... And if you leave them all alone..." Gilbert trailed off, tears in his eyes as he curled in around himself, more to hold himself together than to try to ease his pain. He couldn't do this. He couldn't do this! He _had _to do this. "I will give you full control of Prussia." He whispered, feeling himself break inside. Prussia was his nation. His home. Prussia was _him. _To give that up scared him and nearly made him violently ill. Most people that lost their nations faded from existence after being sick of loneliness. As they faded, the others forgot about them, ignored them in meetings, not to be unkind but because slowly the world forgot about the collapsed societies. The idea of being forgotten by all of his friends... _Luddy will never forget me. Elizabeta won't either... I'll make myself so obnoxious they have no choice but to notice me... _He thought before taking a shaky breath and meeting Ivan's eyes. "My terms are you let my brother leave with me, you surrender to Feliciano and go home, and you leave everyone who fought against you alone. No one else is to be harmed from this incident. You do all that, I'll give you Prussia. My nation, my... my world." He said softly, internally warring against himself. This was the only way to end this. Strangely enough it reminded him of re-teaching his brother everything there was to know about being a country, only this time as "Germany," instead of "The Holy Roman Empire."

_Luddy. What are you going to call your nation? All nations have to have a name." Gilbert said to the small, blue eyed boy in his arms. He internally cried at the sight of the boy with his head wrapped in a blood stained linen cloth, but as Ludwig frowned in serious concentration, he smiled at the young German and kissed his temple with a soft chuckle. "Well don't hurt yourself bruderchen. You don't have to pick now." _

_ "Germany. I want it to be called Germany." He said, a satisfied smile spreading across his face as he looked up at his brother. Despite his injuries, and not remembering anything about his life before the war and Francis, his blue eyes shown with happiness and love. It hadn't taken him long at all to warm up to Gilbert, and every once in a while he would say something that made Gilbert hopeful that he would remember some day. They were always simple. He had picked up on calling Gilbert "bruderlein" again, and he brought Gilbert a cornflower, saying it was his favorite. Simple things, though they warmed Gilbert's heart when he felt discouraged about teaching Ludwig over again. _

_ "Germany? Like Germania? Hmmm... It fits you bruder." Gilbert said after a moment, turning the name over in his brain. The grin that broke out across Ludwig's face made him smile and he hugged the little boy tightly. "Germany... Such a strong sounding name... I like it." He said, resting his forehead against Ludwig's, causing the boy to giggle._

_ "Ja! Just like Germania! I remember a little bit about him, a few of the stories about him. He was the greatest nation ever, except for maybe Ancient Rome.' Ludwig said, cerulean eyes bright with excitement._

_ "How is it you can remember stories about those grumpy nations, but you can't remember your awesome bruderchen?" Gilbert teased, his crimson eyes soft and affection as he pulled the boy to his chest and rested his chin on top of his head. _

_ Ludwig rested his head against Gilbert's chest, listening to his brother's heart beat as he did so, a frown etched onto his face and the light dying in his eyes. He sniffled softly, clinging to his brother with a soft sob. He didn't like hurting his brother. "I don't know... Es tut mir leid, bruderlein... I want to remember you... Really I do!" He wailed, burying his face in Gilbert's chest as he quaked with shuddering sobs. _

_ Gilbert looked startled and his arms tightened around the sobbing boy, reassuring and comforting. "Don't you worry about it Luddy. You remember just enough to know to trust me and to love me. You'll remember everything someday, I promise. Until then, I'll just have to protect you and help you learn. I'd kill and go to war for you, liebling. I _have _killed and gone to war for you." He said with a loving smile, running his fingers through his little brother's hair as he clung to him, crying softly. "It's my job as a nation and, more importantly, as your alter bruderchen. I sometimes have sacrifices to make... I may not always like them and sometimes they can be the hardest thing I have to do, but if they keep you safe, I'll give up anything." Gilbert said, his eyes growing sad and distant as he remembered everything he had given up in his life for this boy. A relationship with the girl he loved, suffering through wars and injuries, losing sleep during storms to comfort him, just doing everything he could to keep him safe._

_ Ludwig lifted his head, frowning at his brother's sudden sadness. He snuggled into his chest and sighed. "Danke bruder... For everything you've done for me, even all the stuff I don't remember... Ich liebe dich." He said, yawning softly. He drifted off to sleep when Gilbert didn't respond right away, still resting against his chest._

_ "Oh bruder... Ich liebe dich auch." Gilbert said with a small smile and a sigh, kissing the boy's temple as he slept. _

Gilbert shook the memory off before tears could run down his pale cheeks. _I've failed at keeping you safe, bruderchen... _He thought, taking in his brother's unconscious state. Blood still slowly trickled from the side of his brother's head, there were scars, bruises and gashes covering ever inch of his body, his entire torso exposed to the world. His rib cage looked caved in, his sternum too. Tearing his gaze from Ludwig's tortured for he fixed his fiery crimson eyes on Ivan, demanding a response.

"I am...liking the plan." Ivan said slowly, a dark, victorious expression on his face. "You take your brother and your troops with the Resistenza... And you are giving me Prussia, officially, now." He demanded, eyes narrowing on Gilbert.

Feliciano made no move to stop Gilbert as he bowed his head and renounced his claims on his land. The albino's body glowed brightly, the white light blinding as it enveloped him, before flashing out and transferring into Ivan. At first, the Russian grinned, though after a minute e let out a scream of pain, falling to his knees as he absorbed all of Gilbert's pain. He took on the grand nation's hardships, hatreds, pains, and problems. The ravaged, bombed land that was Prussia caused Ivan's skin to become discolored, a patchwork of bruises, similar to Gilbert's. The Russian visibly weakened as more and more of Gilbert's suffering swelled inside of him, until he actually began sweating blood, the crimson substance glittered on his skin. He shivered violently and screamed again. How did Gilbert deal with such strong, damaging amounts of pain?

Gilbert sobbed violent, shuddering sobs, feeling empty and completely alone as he lost the bright feeling of lives inside of him. The feeling being stripped of his nation had left him with was devastating and freeing at the same time. He hadn't felt so empty since Ludwig had lost his memory, but at the same time he had never felt so free of pain. Sure his skin was still mottled and bruised, but all that was left of his pain was a dull ache. Of course, that was only counting physical pain. Emotionally he was a wreck.

Ivan writhed on the ground for a while longer until he went still. His body shutting down to protect Russia as it fought to control Prussia and all it's problems. Gilbert watched Ivan's suffering, feeling almost sympathetic for him, knowing what he was feeling. He had lived with it for the better part of four centuries, to so degree or another. After a minute though he got to his feet and walked to Feliciano, turning wordlessly for him to cut the rope binding his arms behind him. As soon as he was free of the ropes he lurched forward and undid Ludwig's chains before pulling his brother to him, and pressing his lips to the man's bloodied temple.

"Gott.. Gott Luddy... Bruder es tut mir leid... I am so sorry." Gilbert whispered, gingerly hugging the broken man to him. "I am so sorry..." He breathed, tears streaming freely down his face. "Ich liebe dich. I love you so much bruder... Come back..." He begged, an old German song coming to his lips, something he sang in a soft, trembling voice, afraid that he'd have gone through all of that just to have his brother die, but then... A cheer rang across the clearing as the Soviets fled, all of them jubilant at winning. The Germans especially were excited at the victory, knowing that meant they were free of the Russians. Their energy spread quickly and filled Ludwig with energy. Though his body was ridiculously weak, it began to heal before Gilbert's eyes. The proud Prussian laughed weakly in relief as pale blue eyes opened, meeting his crimson ones. Tears cascaded down Gilbert's face at the sight of his brother's beautiful eyes and he ran his finger's through the man's hair. "You're safe." He whispered softly, pulling Ludwig to him.

Feliciano sat before the two brothers, watching as Gilbert smoothed Ludwig's hair eyes full of brotherly love. "Thank you, Gilbert." He whispered softly, unable to meet the usually proud nation, that is, ex-nation's crimson eyes. "I'm sorry this resulted in such a big sacrifice on your part... If I could change what happened I would..." He said, biting the inside of his lip.

"Nein... Don't apologize..." Gilbert whispered back, glancing up at Feliciano for a moment, not able to tear his eyes from his brother from much longer than that. His voice was exhausted, defeated, but there was something in it that let Feliciano know hat man would be ok. "As a nation... There are sometimes sacrifices... I may not always like them... And they may be hard..." Fresh tears streamed down the albino's face, blinding him. His voice grew less and less audible as he held his self together by a thread, tying to keep from completely breaking down on the blood stained battle field. "But... They are sometimes necessary... This... Losing Prussia... Kept the people I love safe... That's all that matters to me." He whispered, near silent as he sat there with his brother.

Feliciano nodded and sighed, getting to his feet. As much as he wanted to stay there with them, be there when Ludwig was awake enough for him to talk to, he knew that he should leave them alone for a moment. He resolved to go gather his troops and Gilbert's and send them off to their respected places. Would Gilbert's soldiers go back to Prussia... Or Germany? He frowned and shrugged, deciding to send them into Germany until Gilbert could deal with them. With a last glance back at the brothers, he moved away, leaving them alone.

As soon as Feliciano was out of sight, Gilbert's silent crying turned into soft sobs as he clutched his brother to him, careful not to hurt him. He cried for his Prussia and the nearly ruined Germany. He cried for his time at Ivan's and for his brother's injuries. He cried for the empty loneliness he felt and for the strange feeling of not having pain inside him. He cried for the lose of the innocent boy he had raised and for the monstrous side his brother had had to develop to put up with his dictator. But, mostly he cried in relief that it was finally all over. He was going to be able to stay with his brother. _I'd dissolve Prussia a thousand times over, just so long as I can keep my brother with me. _He thought, jumping as a terribly weak hand brushed tears from his cheek.

"G-Gilbert..." Ludwig whispered, a wobbly, loving smile on his face. "You w-won D-Does..." He trailed off with a wince and a soft yelp as a bone inside him somewhere popped back into place as he healed. "Does th-that mean I can... I can go h-home" He asked, voice shaky and whispering, so quiet Gilbert had to lean in close to hear him.

A shaken smile spread across Gilbert's face in answer as he dared to hug Ludwig tighter. "Thank Gott... I..." His smile grew a teasing edge to it as he chuckled weakly. "I don't have to piece your memory back together." Despite the attempts at teasing, his voice sounded hollow. "Yes... We won." _In a way. _He said, finishing the thought in his head. "We can go home, bruder. I promise. Ivan won't hurt us anymore" He promised, pressing his face into his brother's hair.

"How can you promise that? Did.. Did you kill him?" Ludwig whispered, sounding impressed and horrified all at the same time. He forced his voice as loud as he could manage, though Gilbert still had to strain to hear him. Gilbert wished he hadn't.

The albino stiffened, holding back fresh tears as he met his brother's eyes. "Nein... Nein bruder... I didn't kill him. I... I gave him Prussia bruder. I gave him Prussia to keep him from killing you."

"N-N-Nein... Oh... Oh Gil you... Y-You didn't. Nein... Not... Not to him." Ludwig whispered, his voice echoing his brother's grief and pain. "You... You should have let him kill me." He said in even softer a voice than before, guilt coursing through him. It was all his fault. He should have fought against his dictator. He should have fought against the wall being put up. He should have... Done something! Now his brother had lost his nation and it was all his fault.

Gilbert's crimson eyes flashed with anger and sorrow. "Nein!" He growled, both afraid of and angry with the idea his brother had voiced. "And it isn't your fault. I see the guilt in your eyes bruderchen. It isn't your fault. We all make mistakes. All of us." He said, trying to banish the ideas that plagued his brother. "I'd give it up again for you. You are my bruder before you are anything else to me. It is my job to protect you. If that means giving up my nation, then that's what I'll do. If that means dying in your place, that's what I'll do. If that means leaving you, that's what I'll do. I don't regret anything. And... Feli would have been crushed if you'd have died. You should have heard how pissed he was when we all went to talk to that verdammt communist bastard. I have never seen him be threatening to anything stronger than a pasta noodle... I never would have thought he had it in him to declare war on anyone, let alone the entirety of the Soviet Union." He said, looking down at his brother with a half hearted grin. That he was able to manage that much of a smile was a surprise in it of his self when all he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry.

"My... My Feli declared war on Ivan?" Ludwig whispered, blue eyes looking skeptical. Feliciano Vargas, one of the least military inclined nations in the world, declared war on one of the world's powerhouses to save him? He jumped when a familiar giggle sounded behind him, tired but warm.

Feliciano walked into view, a smile on his face. "I'll tell you the story when we get home." He promised, shrugging as though it wasn't a big deal.

"Not until after we get you cleaned up Luddy. I don't like the looks of your chest... Or your ribs... We'll see if Elizabeta can help set your ribs... I have no ficken idea what we are going to do about your chest... What did he do? Mein Gott..." He said, sound exasperated as his "older brotherness" kicked in.

"Eliza? Why is Elizabeta at my..." Ludwig just sighed and shook his head. He had missed so much. "Another story for later I guess." He said, frowning as Gilbert lifted him in his arms "I can walk, bruder." He said mildly, though didn't press the matter when Gilbert raised an eyebrow at him."

"You're kidding me, right? You can't walk. It's fine bruder." Gilbert said, rolling his eyes. So he had lost Prussia, but he had Elizabeta waiting for him to come back and his brother, even if said brother looked like hell. Ludwig would recover. Who needed to be a nation to be awesome? Life may be a bit different, but it'd still be awesome. He had everything that was still important after all, and that's all that mattered.

* * *

**And so I am one of those writers people hate who end their stories like this, leaving the true ending up to my readers' imagination. All that is important is they are together again. Hopefully this ending was acceptable and thanks to those who stuck with me and read it all the way through. :) **


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